“Some days i remember these streets, but it was not me who was on them” it was another person tearing and pushing, until it all caved and i was somewhere else, somewhere, where i was total other….. without a known history
And I built, and I was.
And i am still, on these same streets where I once was, my invisible histories inside of me.
My power and my vunerability on the surface, of my new and seemingly known skin.

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