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Reshape
April 4, 2023
My temper is a candle, with it's wick burned low
An impermanent cloud where I come and go
My mind is a cavern, where I bury things deep
So mostly I smile, but sometimes I weep
My body is a temple, to which I throw stones
Collisions break away my soul, leaving only some bones
My skin is a trap, from which I cannot escape
If only I could reshape
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This piece is reflective of my teenage femininity and self rejection.