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When I was twelve I was long-haired And fat I had eczema that crawled along my skin In the summer And crept into my dreams At night I was a dancer

When I turned fourteen I felt broken but destined for balance I believed in something Possessed a Righteous sense of self defense Loud hair And a person

Then I was seventeen, I’d known some things Learned around myself, kept falling and falling somewhere But I was dancing Fiercely holding onto movement And proof of existence I was alive With no fear Of —

    Then I was twenty

Misplaced Stagnant and somewhat hopeless I was finding and losing trinkets Bones and tongues …And


I am almost twenty-three I do not dance I seem to find in pieces I am here Simply here, writing on my life In fragmented stages Remembering the vague, abstract chunks Of my existence

But I am here

#growth #life

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