Forgotten

I am someone who forgot who she was. Someone who is a child again, trying to regrasp the concepts of the world. How do you walk tall, how do you speak proudly? How do you stand up for yourself without stepping all over others? How do you remain empathic yet firm in your own beliefs? I am that someone who drifts on the wind of contemplation, here, then there, never finding something firm to hold onto. The world is difficult to see in its full picture. Instead I see it in fractions, but those fractions are totally solid. I believe in that aspect of the world completely, until it shifts, and there is another fraction. And then that is the truth.

And then there are times where I see it all. The full Picasso mess. I swim in the knowledge of what and who and how and I smile and I feel free at last.