The Eraser and the Pen

Dear Delyara, You spent our entire childhood building a prison out of your words, telling me I was small and ugly and worthless. I lived in that cell for a long time. But I just found the keys. I am erasing every "fact" you told me about myself. I am the author now, and in my version of the story, I am a giant. You don't get to hold the pen anymore.