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An Ode to My Skin

Skin breaks beneath mind,
The pressure holding tight.
Their words in red,
Underlined.
But I canít quite get it right.
Up and down,
Side to side,
I cannot crack the code.
All I crack is my poor, poor skin;
And so I write this ode.
It wraps my frame,
It clings to my bones.
And though I weep for my poor, poor skin,
I weep more when Iím alone.
Written by tea_for_bee (Bella C.)
Published
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