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An inner dialogue. This is open to interpretation.


Submitted:Apr 16, 2013    Reads: 4    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Look at me.

Do you think that I'm pretty?

Am I striking,

with my porcelain flesh

and nose ring?

If I walked passed you on the street,

would I catch your eye,

or would I bleed into the flowing crowed of familiar looking faces?

Look at me.

Do you think that I look happy?

Can you spot the ridges left behind by jokes with forgotten punch lines,

or am I merely flat,

a two dimensional figure,

with a brain,

a heart,

a voice?

Look at me.

Do you think that I'm worth it?

Baggage litters my shore,

piling up day-by-day by thrashing waves of emotion.

Look at me.

Look,

at,

me.

Closer.

Deeper.

Who do you see?

A women.

A daughter.

A friend.

We are not so different,

so look at me.





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