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A Poem by Brigid Cooley
Once, you told me you had a list of facts about me saved onto your phone.
I wonder if that disappeared once I did.
I am sorry; I am the only thing that has ever been completely my own.
I wanted to be the person you dreamed that I was, but why pretend something if you already know it will never be real?
I am not afraid of heights. I am afraid of falling.
No,
excuse me...
stupid auto correct.
I am afraid of failing.
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