I have a frail branch bending

I have a frail branch bending
Be as a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same, knowing she has wings. 
~Victor Hugo
I’m not temperate, I tried to be once, a long time ago. 
My gift is my passion. 
And that strength is sometimes my greatest weakness as well.
But my passion impels me to dare the things I try, see what I see, hear as I hear, dream for my future, appreciate my history, feel the present… and live a life richer because of the audacity.
 Square pegs fit in round holes only after pieces of them are shaved away.
We all fall down sometimes, but how quickly we pick ourselves back up and dust off the knees or the bootie determines the winner in life (and love?).
I am sometimes a mess, sometimes a hot mess.
I say and do things that hurt others, and my sensitive nature lets me be hurt by things others say and do, too.
At my core I know that I do my best.
I would rather be true to me as a mess than live in bondage of what someone else envisions as a proper version of me. 
And because of this, tonight I will well sleep. 
And tomorrow when I wake, I will be able to face me. 

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