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I'm not always a good first impression—
sometimes my mouth staggers out
before my kindness gets dressed.
Sometimes I laugh at the wrong time
or forget someone's nickname
but remember their favorite color.

I know sometimes I can come off
as a misplaced sentence
in the middle of a calm paragraph—
but know I'm not the type to edit others.

Sometimes—
I look like a bold question mark
in a room full of exclamation points.
but I am not confused—
just hard to react
with built-in soft-spoken backup plans.

I want you to know—
I'm on your team even if it's left-handed
even when I blink too slow
or speak too fast and too long
stand too far away
don't say the right thing
at the right time—
or add thank you at the end of a sentence.

I may be awkward—
but I'm real and care loudly
even when it doesn't sound like it.
She'll nail the audition, she always does
She even gets the lead more often than not,
But like clock work, her performance declines with each rehearsal
She can't hit the notes,
Her costume begins fitting funny,
Don't get me started on her choreography,
But she'll pursue, until she's booed
Off the stage on opening night.

And this is her curse,
She'll nail the first verse,
And have seemingly no control as she gets worse
Why does every director leave her wondering if there's something wrong with her?
When the glass shattered that day,
all I could think was—please stop.
Later, it became—I hope the pieces fit back together.
And now, it’s—I pray they don’t break further.
The pain, you ask?
It’s still there.
Only now, the numbness is manageable.
It’s strange how, like the tide, things escalate and everything suddenly feels out of order. You can’t even process events as they unfold—you’re just left speechless. What once seemed simple becomes complicated and messy. So you pause to ask yourself: is this really reality?
Things break, and they make noise—some people notice, others just enjoy it, indifferent to the consequences for those caught in the middle.
And then there are the memories—strangely missed, yet forever trapped in a chapter, a part, a volume of my life that feels completely different from now.
"Forget about him.
Let him go.
Don't think.
Just let go,"
So they say.

"Well ,why not?" I said
"How hard can it be?"

I kept thinking about forgetting him,
then fell asleep.
There he was again,
smiling in my dream,
as if saying, "Happy forgetting."
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