Drained culture

This culture is sand, rubbing us raw.

Amputating the imperfect pieces;

Dislocation from ourselves.

Jumping at the first signs of puberty,

Pulling us in slowly and securely.

Suddenly we’re not anything but used coffee grains.

Strained and soaking.

We stand- eroded souls from constant sand,

Amputated of our imperfections,

Strained of our personalities.

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