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Apr 2018
I open my eyes,
But see as if they were closed,
I felt that I was alone,
Some days my eyes decide to open and allow me to see,
Other days they are kept closed,
I cannot see what you do,
I am not calm or colected,
I am a stained glass painting that has shatterd into millions of pices,
I see that glass,
No one else does,
Because i'm alone trying to glue it back to together,
I see...
Me, In those stained glass walls,
throughout the empty halls,
Maybe one day you'll see me too,
Just as I see you...
I see me in that broken glass,
I see...
something i'm supposed to be,
I see me.
Wandering poet
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Wandering poet  14/Gender Fluid
(14/Gender Fluid)   
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