If 

I could curl into a ball inside myself, to disappear forever, I’d never be alone again… I’d be my souls needs sweater… And maybe when a poets pen lacks ink..

Its because they’re on her cheeks,

cutting paths in the sand that was she

Eroded, but trees still stand on me

So

I’ll take their strength and strangle me

To rebirth a better version

Less trust, and more aversion

But then

I wouldn’t be me.

Safe spaces…

I’ll try again

But maybe this time

I’ll be my own best friend

-Me(Ama)

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