being a daughter

i am my mothers daughter. 

with every fibre of my being, i know that every strand of hair on my head only makes me more like her, that every tooth in my mouth closes the resemblence down to a T. i've fought for years not to be her, i've prayed to every god at my disposal and to every creature i knew the name of. but nothing can stop you from being who you are.

i used to veiw my father as this mythical figure, something i quite never knew, a faltering tide washing him away like sand somewhere along the way - along my way -  making sure i never truly knew him. as i grow older i learn more of him, who he is - or was - at this time in my life i have a picture of who my parents used to be and i can see where my traits come from.

it is a very nature vs nuture thing, but i belive both play a part, but somehow i ended like my mother, i can't say i resented her but i've had my fair share of opions on the woman who raised me. my words become more like hers, my eyes the same look as hers, my laugh matches her chuckles and i know somehwere along the way my mother was like me. 

my mother wore the same purple boots as me, my mother must've walked along the sidewalk in the rain with them as much as i, she must've loved like i do. she must've had her own fizzyships and best friends. maybe i am my other as uch as she is me, maybe we can like in tandem like that - somehow coexisting even though we are the same.