I moved a lot as a kid. I liked it. I always love turning a new page--
new year, new me--
it usually ends up being the same me, but the potential is exciting, I guess.
Can you love change too much?
Sometimes it's nice to appreciate what you have.
But when I feel contentment settling in,
I want to shake it off--
feels like moss creeping up, tethering your ankles.
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