I step into the woods...

No longer am I

a seventeen-year girl

who goes to St. John's

who tries to fit in

who loves Star Wars

who is addicted to the internet

a webmaster

a thespian

a pen pal

a compulsive eater


I am like

the leaves the sway in the early spring wind,

the moss the grows only in the shadows,

the thorns that once cut Jesus' forehead,

the daffodils that William Wordsworth dreampt about

I AM nature.


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