Running away never solved any problems.
Then again, I was never one to confront them.
It’s all I had.
It’s who I was.
Was. Past Tense.
Who I am now is still being written.
It’s not about the alignment of the stars
Or three women with sewing needles and thread.
It’s not being dictated by some man sitting a cloud.
It’s about whether or not
I decide to keeping putting one foot in front of the other for all eternity
Or if I finally stop to smell the roses.
Trapped In The Margins 
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