Nothing

Have I ever told you what it feels like to be in the eye of a hurricane?
What it feels like to be washed ashore by the powerful tentacles of a monsoon?
Have I?
Have I mentioned what it's like to feel powerless and almighty all at the same time?
To the be the queen and the vagabond to anybody who asks?
No. I have not mentioned that there is a duplicitous nature that struggles to even come to terms with which is which.
There's one door, two doors, three doors, and way too many for us to count.
Pick one, open up and choose which one you will have for the night.
It's not betrayal, it's not falsehood, it's the cost of living in a place with no limit on price. 
It's the cost of having a foreign mother and father, a foreign taste of something that won't pay for your waste.
There is no curtain because we all know the truth.
Because we all know that there is no you, there is no me, there is only whatever we are allowed to be by the circumstances that dictate our souls.
It'd be nice to meet me sometime, I'm sure it'd be intriguing to see what I really am like.

 

 

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