You are who you are for a lot of reasons.
You are not your test scores, your knowledge
is not defined by a letter on a piece of paper.
You are not your mother’s faults or your father’s regrets.
You are not a glass of alcohol with blurred vision
and with a heart half blood, half vodka.
You are human, and you are you.
You are the music you listen to and the books you read.
You are your favorite movies and the lines of poetry
highlighted on your bedside table.
You are your favorite food on lazy Sunday mornings, and
you are your favorite places that your heart screams of travel.
You are home.
I do not know you, but I know you are beautiful, and I
know that I am jealous of your bedsheets that caress you every night,
You are the universe inside of physical beauty, and…
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