my crest of ink
these walls have been staring
what are you waiting for?
i need a moment
its not as easy as it looks
embodying solus
but i cant shake the watchful eyes
forego the parable
this ink belongs on paper
its how it feels that counts
no one has to know
what if somebody sees it
what if
so this is the raw me
vulnerable in every way
there is strength in these lines
it gets easier i suppose
the heart is made of muscle after all
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