I didn't write
a poem.
But
if I did
it would be
ill.
------
People keep telling me
how they french kiss girls,
while I just sit
and talk
with the squirrels.
-----
I was a porcelain doll,
unappreciated,
collecting dust,
only an inch away from falling
and shattering.
But I sit on the top shelf.
I can see everything,
but do they know
I'm here?
-----
Utter madness:
being stretched into a thin line,
trying to balance between
work,
school,
family,
friends.
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