* Short poem I'm working on after being caught at my grungiest during an introduction. Ha.
Sum of me today;
Chipped lilac nail polish,
Feeling like a squirrel has taken fussy
residence in my chest.
Over there is a woman with
satin nails and satin hair
no squirrel, but a smile that suggests a song bird
flutters in her heart -
Sum of her.
What can I do?
kick out the squirrel, coax in canary birds?
Why must I always feel like
the chipped polish? -
Something must be done about it.
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