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A Girl of My Own




I live in layers I, myself, spent my whole life to recognize;

I.
You could see me as what I am, the way I talk, the things I did, the smile I gave

II.
You could see me as someone I let you to see

This is the way most people know who I am, from everything I want them to know about me, nothing more or less

With the annoyingly funny jokes, I became the funny one. I love being funny because it is super fun. Hearing a blaring laugh from people around you at least for a moment is relieving.

With the small talk and friendly greetings, I befriended anyone. People of my age, a colleague, a nice woman who sells everything, a cute child who plays in the daylight.

With the longing of love I adore romance way too much. Drawn into affection of someone far, I wrote it in a hundred lines.

With the distinctive voice, I laugh at anything. From every ears until bursting into tears.

With the strong, I don’t care about shit facade, I became independent. I’m used to be alone and be okay with it at the same time. Having no one to help me is not even a problem, because as long as I got myself, I am fine. Totally fine.

III.
You could see me as who I really am, in the darkest way possible

More than the ruined surface of myself, this layer is too damaged. Contained of every falling hopes, broken trusts, self-loathing thoughts, and dark feelings I have always swallowed away.

This is not easy to be written about because I am also lost in its depth. All I could remember is the time when people see this layer of me, they tend to run, walking backwards slowly, realizing that I am not something they are signed up for, and disappear completely.

Probably because it shows the contradictory between what I want to be and what I really am. Behind everything I want myself to be, I am not strong, I am way too scared of love yet I feel too much about people I care (and about everything in general), I long to have a person or more who could treat me as I’ve treated them, I want to be needed as much as I need people around me, and I am way too far from fine.

But then, I enjoy living in layers because I found ways to survive. One of it is by letting you all to define me yourself.

I am no other than what you want me to be
Breathing air, sometimes choked in smoke, other times drown in my own blood

I am everything that you make me to be
A human, less than a human, the last stop, the broken light in your gloomy night

I am anything that you see fit perfectly
A place to stay in, a poison you ran into, a joke you laugh about, or simply a chunk of nothing

Yet I am none of it, I am no saint nor sinner; I am no good nor special;
I am a girl of my own, holding her head high and her eyes low, walking in the contrary of the flow.
I am a girl of my own, facing the cruelness I endure I will never give any fucks for sure.



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