Pinched on my ribcage

Pumping slowly, weightily

As I take deep breaths

While the needle goes in

Trying to patch up what’s left of it

Sewing all holes on it

And I walk with my head held high

Boosting of confidence that is wrecked

Hiding the drainage it has experienced

Only if I could hold it in my hand

And show my acquaintances how fragile it is

How worn out and damaged it is


Then they will accept it without judgment

Then maybe it won’t be tormented



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