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Jan 2021
The curls are cut and gone
The past falls away
Swept up with a broom

Pent up in my room
Slowly changing
Long hair
And short sleeves
To sweatshirts
Rearranging

A beanie to cover up
The dread I feel
Looking in the mirror
I hope to see change
But I don't know what of

This is my dysphoria
I might make this into a song... well see
Written by
Olivia Lake
496
   camps
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