(a poem)

When I think of me
I must consider multiplicity.
For there isn't just one of me.
There is the me you see;
as well as the one
     I'm perceived to be;
there is also the person
     I want others to believe is me;
and the one you think I should be;
but the most dangerous one
     to me
is the me I have come
     to believe I must be
based on the illusions
     of so many expectations of me.
All of this multiplicity
throws shade on the beauty of me
the one birthed in singularity
through the original
     blessing of divinity.
This is the real me:
born to be
none other than
May you too find
     peace in this mystery
that you are the you
     you were always meant to be.
This marks the end
     of multiplicity.


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