I was a cosmic swirl

stumbling blindly towards the sun,

my dreamcatcher hands coming undone.

I was anxiety assaulted.

Between all that I was, I bacame.

I now know what I am. 

I am calligraphy, bold and intricate,

cultured and present.

I am

surrounded by a world that is no longer 


For we grew hand in hand.

I understand

all that I am.

This poem is about: 


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