Break into pieces, arm yourself again.
Without memory.
No nights of confinement,
without the dead mother
nor the father you desperately seek to kill to start seeing yourself in the reflections
and tell you
That's me
that was
Because right now
at this time
you are dying
to be reborn
with clean feathers
Without words that bind you to the call of the voices, strangers.
Looking for the unnoticed emptiness
that allows you
simply
To be part
Of something
much larger
of what has been
what it is
your existence.
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