being someone

Why sometimes my world’s so dizzy?
Why is everything so ironically missing?
Where is all good reason and the ability to talk?

These questions I asked myself each day.

I am who I am because I could never really escape, even when I tried so hard. I grew up being afraid of arguements because I dind’t see the importance of it and I never saw the problems which could have been solved. Also my family doesn’t know the word ‚drama‘. My life went on and on and I watched the sand slide through my fingers.
Some may call it patience, I call it numbness.
My best points, I fear I had them in my mind or maybe on paper. And I never raise my voice yet I can’t stand it when someone isn’t listening to what I have to say. I’m mentally strong yet I’m hardly able to hold back my tears.

I still am that person but someone never stopped fighting until I fought back. Someone never stopped asking for the problems I called my own flaws. Someone never stopped pulling me through the dirt until I saw the beauty in it. Someone kept telling me that I’m great until I made it my own device. Someone told me I am a woman, not a girl. Someone told me I’m special, because everyone is. Someone started to speak about my mistakes because she knew I could take it.
Someone told me about her fears, her dreams and her believes…
someone told me about his worries, his strength and his weakness…
until we saw equality in our identities.

The best part of life are the people. Relationships. Family. Friends.
When you mix it all together you get yourself.
That’s really all it takes.

We’re all someone.

 

~Anne~

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