the first time you asked me to tell you
something you didn't know about me.
I told you
I trace the freckles on my arm like constellations
but I have yet to find a north star on my own skin.
You told me everyone traces their freckles.
I am realizing
I do not have a monopoly on all of the little things
that I thought were special about me.
I am not the only girl
whose hands are always cold.
Yet you thought I was special anyway.
"You will have some nice girl
who will not care about the things that I cared about
and you will be happier"
- Zelda to F. Scott Fitzgerald
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