Merci

And here I sit a million miles away
so ashamed of everything I might symbolize
my bloodline, their past, their present, their future
I think of little Marji and her story
and how she so adored the foundation that raised her
and loved her so painfully that they sent her away
to live a better life in another part of the world
and then I think of you and what little I remember
the one time I had the chance to touch your face
and pick out the sound of your heartbeat beneath your wrinkled breasts
see your flaming red hair and your tortoise-rimmed glasses
and hear your voice
a voice I could never recall if my life counted on it
because there are too many things in this short life that I cannot bear
and knowing what I know has only hurt me
and there is no one to tell me that I have a foundation
because the world I know was rubble the moment I came
and I have to try my best to create my own inventions
because what I am given is never good enough
and will never truly move me to commit to its presence
and there are so many ways I dream of being in touch
with the inner shadows that have such layered backdrops
but it feels as though I have buried many of these things too deep
and as the days progress and move forward
I become distracted in the bubble that I have blown
and slowly forget who I truly am inside
but I must remember never to forget
because forgetfulness is the sin of the ignorant
and pride should be the goal of the victorious
and for all of these reasons and more
I am me, and was bred of two histories
and will always remain in this shell
with these filled orifices
these parts go with me wherever I venture
and I cannot run from their origins
and so you see
I am the one looking back at myself
always.

RTH

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