Chameleon

I am tired of this shell of a human I have become.

It is when the feeling arises in my chest and my eyes feel heavy, that I want to run.

 

I feel the need for a change.

I need to get out in order for growth.

A flower cannot bloom with pollution in the air, or a drought in its soil.

 

I feel like I am twelve again.

It is harbored in my chest.

I want to forget but I can't.

 

I am collapsing in on myself.

 

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