Now that I am free to be myself,
Who am I?

Dandelions laid against the dirt
Set atop my head like a crown
Coffee brewed fresh in the cold
Held in my hands like a hug
Pontes hung up alone
Forgotten like the magic of old

Who am I?

Not two parents, but one
Not one love, but none
Not one friend, but ghosts

Who am I?

A quiet attic of unlived dreams
A lonely girl sitting at a grave
A forgotten daughter making rent