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Class,
repeat
after me:
I am not
my past,
my mistakes
or my shame
or my sorrow
or my loneliness
or my preferences:*
that's
noise,
crap,
icky
mind
junk.
Let
go!
Put
it­

d

o


w
  
    n*


I
am
all my
glorious
truths, and
idiosyncratic
secrets & stories,
their potential
and beauty.
We create our own unhappiness;
we can create happiness just as easily.
The unfortunate thing is that
we don't.
 Oct 2014 Melissa Fayard
ck
Untitled
 Oct 2014 Melissa Fayard
ck
*******.

The end.
Will you love me when I'm 80
When I walk and talk real slow?
Will you love my wrinkles
If I let them show?
Will you hold me every night
And kiss me in the morning light?
And when I see my last sunrise
Will you hold me when I die?

— The End —