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Aug 2011
I don't know who I am anymore.
who I ever was for that matter. I
hate
that saying
"I just have to find myself"
it feels like a lame
copout.
an excuse to leave behind your responsibilities,
an excuse that makes everyone feel like crap. everyone
but you.
nevertheless, here I sit
at the bottom of a dark closet asking myself:
who am I?
that question is just a breath away from:
I need to find myself.
where does one go
exactly,
to find one's self?
I might need to buy a ticket

I have been so caught up in
pleasing people,
I don't know
how to
please myself.
I want to cry.
I want to feel that deep aching rip in my chest that comes with the choking toddler sobs.
I want to taste the salty tears as they trickle down my face, tickling my checks’.
I want to release this swirling scream from within my lips.
I want,
I want,
I want,
I don't know what I
want.
how could I? I don't know who I
am.

I wonder if there is really even
anyone to discover?

will I
always feel this way?
I can't remember before I felt this way. even though I
am sure that there was a
before.
could this possibly be a feeling that people live with?
I need air to live. I need
light
to see. I don't know who that person in the mirror is
but, life goes on.
Do I need simply to repress this feeling, like
so many others:
alienation,
loneliness,
longing,
and now this, this
ambiguity
within myself. that is myself.
I am...
a
question
Written by
Danielle Lucero
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