I am almost a city but not yet complete. Tall buildings built but no people in the street.
My life seems to always reiterate my name. A constant explanation to why I seem to be lacking to some but enough for others.
I know I must find the missing piece. Where did my name come from? So I can get that final peace.
But the work it would take is circumstantial.
It would take for me to find my mother, to remove that extra letter.
Or to tell me why I have it.
Is that what makes me special?