growing and growing

I am the beat of my heart

fighting the wind of the fan at

two in the morning

 

the heartbeat is a reminder.

 

whenever I'm dead because of the thoughts

that often pop up

inside my head

 

the steady echoing in my chest

reminds me of what's left

 

i am their sunrise

i am not a ghost

i am more than my mother's perfume

i am still a child

 

i am growing.

This poem is about: 
Me

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