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Saturday, 25 February 2017

the same, but different. (charli writes poetry)

Today I faced my biggest anxiety, which is seeing a family member after four years due to a really bad fallout. And now I'm home and want to process so... I'm going to write.

the same, but different.

i'm the same as i was back then
(four years ago)
pen all over my hands,
the frizzy hair,
my backpack full of books.

but i'm not.
i wear skinny jeans,
i have splints adorning my arms,
i learn concepts larger than life.

my values are still spelt out,
loud and strong
(too loud for most)
and i still tend to be cuddled
away in a hoodie.

but i've learnt how to be diplomatic,
how to do no harm but take no shit,
and i just know where i want to be.

and yes, i still wear trainers,
and no, i still don't like fish.
but i am not who i was
and neither are they.

their house felt so much smaller
but the situation was so so big.
and she -- she looked so withdrawn
and there was this lack of regret
but i am okay.

the hand-soap was the same brand
and they haven't even had a new tv.
the picture of me age 5 still lay on the mantelpiece...

there was such an air of vulnerability
tentative, tangible vulnerability.
but i am okay, and it is over now.

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