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Untitled


It's a layer of defense

Soft and Smooth

It crackles , it can breaks if you have a wound.

Hairs stand up when you have chills

Pierces red when you have a sunburn , or when you get mad.

It's a blank canvas to your pen

It's an external organ , it's the glue to your body

You should be comfortable in your own skin

Nobody has the right to take that away from you


Musings of an Artist

Musings of an Artist

My Poetry Never Ends

My Poetry Never Ends

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