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My bra's don't fit right
anymore
My hair is too long and too short
I don't know what I keep it for
My eyes are tired at the sight
but sleep seems impossible

My lips are cracked
the skin is dry
My fingernails are peeling
the feeling is unnerving
My body feels too big like I lacked
the right to be myself

My ego is too big
for the self-esteem I posses
My friendships I've kept
don't seem to last
My hole I continuously dig
has been filled at last
Jumping
We're jumping
and dancing in circles
the music
is blasting
We're jumping
and jumping
and dancing in circles
I dont care if its cringey i wrote it to be true and I wrote it for me not you
Text me
Text me
Text me
Text me
Text me
Text me
Text me
Text me

And then you never will
Because I'm holding on
While you seem
To have already to go
I dance rings of fire
I am a horrendous liar
I sit silently on my own pyre
I made with my own to hands to a choir
Singing songs of my sinning and they ever tire

I burn the grass below my feet
I am strapped steadily to the seat
The lines are chaotic and precariously neat
Every line in the book are folded into a little pleat
I hold the key then I carelessly give it to everyone I meet

I am my own critic
I am my own faulty medic
I am the sweet burned in acidic
I am a selfish cry from the idiotic
I am the virtue in the word patriotic

I write poetry and pretend you will read it
Because I can't stand to leave my thoughts private
In reality I am just a girl with words to convince
That work on everyone but myself
Hoping this time they won't be pathetic
I love wintertime
Even as the snow melts to my feet
In the middle of December

When my coat
Is as long as my skirt and my socks reach my knees
I feel like I could live forever

You only get cold at 29
Whether the sky is melting or its below zero
There's too little time to remember

Blasting Rihanna like I'm still ten
Because I came to dance, dance, dance
Come play with you, me, whomever
I'm blasting songs from school dances and honestly, I love me my short skirts and long jackets
I saw a man and his son today
walking through the store looking at
flowers for his wife and his mother
and you know I think I found the suns missing ray

There were folks gathered at work
all dressed up in white shirts and shiny black shoes
the kids were smiling and laughing
the whole scene a piece of artwork

Even as I watched from the corner in the back
the warmth radiated for their faces
everything right in the perfect places
like for them time might stop keeping track
I love the way hand made garments
are perfect and wonderful and you can tell they are loved
by the way the buttons are little misplaced
but you wear it and smile and are warm

Or the way on a home made card
you can see the messy finger prints of a hand ungloved
as the paint and markers were still wet
and the glue didn't want to conform

Maybe it is within each perfect little mistake
that life and love is seen
different from the one before like a winters flake
in the smooth spaces and each in-between
I saw a Pinterest post where some ladies homemade shirt had uneven buttons and thought I'd write a poor poem on it. Somethings are just love incarnate
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