It Doesn’t Always Mean Doom

Ideally
One day I can stop
Choking on the strings
Of my silk heart
And laugh
That kind of laugh
That
Pushes all the air out of
My lungs
And not worry
About the
Lipstick
Going outside
The lines
But for now
I’m pulling at them
Like the teeth
In my
Dreams
Like pearls
From my mom’s
Necklace
I broke
And hid
And lied about
Because
Confrontation
Never quite suited me
Or my demeanor
I am tall enough
To slouch
And silent enough
To be lost
In the wind
I want to
Know
How it feels
To have the air
Pulled from
My
Lungs
And dance
On a whim
Like my skin
Were both burning
And beautiful
Like I
Was ever anything
More than a holding cell
For
These
Strings

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