Unconsciously (Not) Me

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Every word someone says of how I want to dress,
 
of what I say, 
 
is sharp
 
Dark
 
like poison and slow.
 
Won't affect me now but will later,
 
Which is worse than anything.
 
There's me unconsciously deciding not to dress my way 
 
and speak my mind.
 
The posion seeps into my veins.
 
The looks,
 
the stares as if I need your input.
 
The questions of why.
 
I no longer need those questions, so I don't do what I want.
 
Giving myself an outer layer that I'm ok with
 
but still isnt me.
 
Its easier to hide behind a curtain;
 
It is a blank canvas.
 
You can be anything you want to be .

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