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Yesterday
I found my former self
in an abandoned alley
in the back of my brain.
She was sitting against the graffiti,
bandaged knees tucked to her beating heart,
trying to fade into herself.
I shouted her name
hoping for any sign of recognition
but all she did
was slowly look up.
With blinking honey-colored eyes,
thick lashes sticking together
like shadows to a person.
I saw the confusion
as it settled onto her face
and knew what my answer was
before she even asked.
"Who are you?" She asked.
"I'm you," I responded.
"After you let go
of all the nasty weighted things
that you tend to hold
so close to your heart.
"I'm you," I said.
"After you let go."
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