my life
my very existence—is made of memories
of moments
each one unique
exclusive
much like these leaves
they are fed
each grow into
a resemblance of
some kind of green,
crooked heart
each made up of
different veins
different chlorophyll
my memories
they’ve grown from the
twisted, clairvoyant
person that is me
each memory carefully
fed
in the same place
just like these white
sunscreen covered trees
who perfectly produce
thousands of leaves
each one more mesmerizing and
unique than the last
I am these trees
as I sit on this bumpy
old wood bridge
looking into their
gray, mysterious eyes
and my life is worth
living
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