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My teacher is like a mother to me- but does she really see who I am? |
| Sometimes I wonder if she knows if she sees past the simple relief and joy of being home again of being loved into the pain and hurt and sadness that follows me elsewhere I wonder if she sees past the dedication into the desperation of knowing this is all I have the last thread holding on for dear life clinging onto the one strand of warmth left I wonder if she sees past the talent that potential she feels I have into the worry that it's not enough that I'm not enough that I'll never be I wonder if she sees past the trust the love I've come to feel into the darkness where I fear that I'll be thrown away hurt again I wonder if she sees past the girl I look like loud but so quiet into the world where I never feel strong a world where I need her to hold me I wonder if she knows |