Curate, connect, and discover
You're sticking me with pieces
Of someone else's journey.
Weaving in some strangers theories.
But just know that
I'll never be enough,
I'll always be empty.
Starving,
For a truth of my own.
Waiting for my own soul,
To be mixed with the newness in me.
Because I'll always be a reject,
Of someone's memory
Unless I write my own.
Only then
I'll be enough.
-simra . T