In childhood we learn to hide who we really are
The vulnerable parts
Are simply too tasty for bullies
Who beat us into submission,
Until we become a shell.
Until we become our own bullies.
Now, as an adult
Trying to fill this shell feels daunting
Where do I even begin?
What do I even like?
Who am I?
But here I am,
Showing up
With pen to paper
And paper to the world
I will be me again.
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