When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.
It didn't matter what anyone else saw in me. For the first time, I felt like I was seeing myself.
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It didn't matter what anyone else saw in me. For the first time, I felt like I was seeing myself.
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I realized if I didn__ just go, I__ never go. Going was the key. It didn__ matter where I was headed just as long as I was headed somewhere. ~ Ben Davis