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I am imperfect.  I spend my days wondering who the real me is.  I am lost in translation with my own self. Some days I wonder If anyone really sees me.  Sees the real me. Then I think of the Moon.  My Moon. The Moon that sees me and then I cry. In my dreams the Moon takes me and releases my soul.  I see myself smiling and looking down at the world.  I have become the Moon.  We have merged as one being

Emma Visca

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