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whispered, like a secret

I want to be soft and held and loved and at the same time

I think if anyone dared to hold me gently I would break


Like that goo that only holds up under pressure

I can’t exist without the tension in my spine keeping me upright


Hate me and it’s all the same

Love me and I’m lost


Treat me like something that could break and I will

So quickly

So much


(Don’t and I still will—but cracks under pressure are expected



My walls are so tall but so thin


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