Someone Else’s Story

She is, an avid reader, she’d read through the volumes, all the major works of literature you can think of, Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Hardy, Austen, etc., etc., etc., and, she’d found parts, or pieces rather, of her self in all their works, but, they’re all, someone else’s story, not her own!

Someone else’s story she’d started writing, but, as she wrote on, she’d gone back through the pages of what she’d already written down, and she’d, discovered, in her own shock, hey, that’s me!!!  Someone else’s story, she’d written so many times, and she’d never told her own story.  Someone else’s story, she’d remembered backwards and forward, she could, recite someone else’s story by heart, but, when it came to her own story, she’d, drawn, that huge blank.

Someone else’s story, it’s always easier to write about and tell, because it isn’t about you, and, when it’s not about you, things are usually, easier, because you don’t have to reflect, to retrospect, to take steps backward, to examine your own selves…

Someone else’s story, I’d told, and, I’d also, told my own stories too………


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