I've had it for so long,
this sadness,
that it almost feels like
a second skin.
Some days it speaks like me,
it acts like me,
it becomes me,
it is me.
But, I am not my sadness,
although it dwells on,
unyielding.
I am not what happened to me.
I am not my hurt.
I am still becoming.
8.19.20
21:04