are we mosaics

of everyone we’ve ever known?

or am I my own

to love and to hate

to blame myself for

all the mistakes I’ve ever made

is it just me?

what if

it’s heartbreak that made me

into the monster that I am

what if

it made me soft

and naive

what if

my laugh is from my father

and my tears from my mother

what if

who I am is not who I am at all?