THERE IS ROOM

I used to lock myself inside a mental loft,
to run away from all my imperfect scars,
bargaining with my life, counting up the cost,
as if I had no place beneath the stars.

I couldn't bear to hold my own imperfect being,
I raised others' criticism to the gods themselves,
the only rescue left to me was fleeing
from ever finding how to face myself.

And down the narrow sta...

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