afraid of how much i want to leave

sometimes i see myself, and i see someone i don’t know.

i see someone i am afraid of.

someone fake, and plastic and rehearsed.

and sometimes other people see through the mask of lies and fake accents i’ve created for myself

and like my father just now, they say

‘my god.’

tomorrow i will be myself, wholly and completely.

i am kind and good and pure.

i am more than my accents, my desires and my insecurities.

i am above that.

(this, the whole going far away thing, is never EVER going to succeed. if i don’t accept and be. who i am meant to be. who i am. who i will always be.)

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