An identity lost,
No place to land.
The truth of me
a faint memory.
A facade pieced together
with misguided illusions,
disguising the fingerprint
of my soul.
Time piled up behind me,
an attic full of memories.
Sifting through the tangle,
separating fabrications
from true remnants of she.
Confusion birthing panic...
No sudden movements please.
Go easy, child....
Travel gently through,
Breath deep the peace
that wisdom speaks
the answer rests in you.
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