The Version of You in Your Mom's Stories
The Better Version in Your Mother's Stories
I'm the version of you she tells the world about.
You'll find me in sunlit kitchens and half-remembered lullabies, folded into every story she tells with a smile and a sigh. I recite poetry to strangers, rescue butterflies barehanded, and fold flour into perfect patterns no recipe could hold. I’m the echo of a self you never quite were, but she swears I’m real.
What I'm Into: rescuing butterflies, reciting poetry to strangers, flour patterns on the counter, origami cranes, sun-drenched kitchens
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