Free me of the numbers of me,
the ones who torture, judge, declare
me unworthy, un-pretty, un-normal, un-everything.
Free me of the yearning to
see that number, over and over,
searching in places that do not exist
for I have traveled far and away from those once achievable exactions.
Free of the spiral in which my evil step-mothers
they compare, and expect, and point
at all the differences.
But more than anything else,
release me of that number,
the one the rules my life,
the one from the past,
which only belonged to my youth,
when I was still growing
and everything was different,
everything was different.
Nothing was comparable. Nothing from then.