Lee Trent
I am mine. I am my name, which you may speak and write but which cannot be your words. I am my name, which you cannot have. I am my name, which I have made and which has made me. Your name is yours, and I have given it up.
I am mine. I am my hair. I am the hair that grows on my face, my head, my arms. I am my braids, their rhythm and shine. I grow like my hair, with my hair. I grow, and you cut growth out. My hair is mine, not yours. You are yours. You are gone.
I am mine. I am my body, which I can use but will not give. I am what I have built, and I am what I have torn down. I am not what you have given or taken. I am not what you have created or destroyed.
I am mine. I am the earth beneath my feet. I am the foundation you would have dismantled to avoid building your own. I am roots that reach down and vines that reach out, which grew myself. I am becoming, but you have already become all that you will be to me.
I am mine. I am my favorite song. I was my favorite song before you, we were my favorite song, I am my favorite song after you. It was never yours.
I am mine. I am the journal entries I wrote but didn't read. I’ll read them next time. I am the pain I bore for those who wouldn't bear inconvenience for me. I won’t be anymore. I am not your dirty laundry.
I am mine. I am my future. You are yours. They have nothing in common. I am building love out of loss. I am making promises I will not break. I am my word and my will. You are whatever you want to be. Do you want to be?
I am, and you are not. I am, even when you are not. I am, because you are not. I am mine.
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