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Her eyes were blue Like the oceans that I would cross  To be able to see her face again   Her hair was like silk  That was delicately spun
gone too soon,                                                                                                                                                                                                                        green girl with t
When I was a kid, my mom would give me and my sisters coloring books to keep us preoccupied  during Sunday Masses- Jesus themed coloring books, of course. The Catholic kind where you use crayons to 
her words, shatter my resolve like ice smashing my hope to bits and pieces she says I'm over reacting inventing things to finally make friends this isn't how it ends
I look around and see that Everyone's out and proud. They're championing each other In this colorful festival that I never really understood But have always admired. I'm locked in a tiny closet
I've spent my life in closets   First, it was the closet of a loner A child without friends in a world of hate The closet was small, suffocating, and lonely
when you were little, did you ever play hide and seek? there’s always one kid who hides in the closetif it was you, you know whythe closet’s warm and dark and quiet and as long as you stay silent, no one can tell you’re there
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