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Emma Guzowski

A skeleton

Nothing but a shriveling reminder of what was once there

What am I but a pile of rotten bones longing for something to pervade?

Hooded eyelids over brown orbs

Views of busy flowers and flashing lights

My nose, hated with a passion

My reflection, an asymmetrical figure

A downgrade, a deep hole in, middle of my skull

I coil in my own emptiness, packed with regret

I relinquish my egotistical self

I used to wish for plumper lips and a shinier smile

Was my happiness simply a posing figment behind it?

I wish I had a smile.

Once loathed, eternally craved

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