I have come to find that familiarity is not belonging.

An overwheliming sense of inauthenticity with those

who say they know me best. My own blood.

A deep sense of belonging and a welcomed sigh of relief with those

for whom my walls fall. Not my blood.

I wonder if I'll always feel a pull between two lives.

Tell me - where is home? Rather, who is home?

For never in my life have I believed more strongly that

Familiarity is NOT belonging.




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