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Dec 2018
It has become an unbearable thought to drag around this body that no longer feels like my own

I hate that I know its limits and lacks,
It's excess and ungodly elaborations

I hate that I feel stuck

And erasing my outlines won't change the already coloured-in picture,

So I guess I'll have to make use of magic markers to add and deduct some inner colours in order to feel weightless once again.
I was feeling stuck and Wonder came up on television. This poem was going to go in a different direction until then.
Marie
Written by
Marie  24
(24)   
332
   --- and Fawn
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