Poems from This Air is insecure

Voices overlap as I sit patiently in this dim yellow room. They speak of me as if I am not here. They mention my weaknesses. More words...
I am standing here. Not really knowing what door to open. Every moment feels like a stab leaving invisible cuts. Each person looks like the...
I'm sitting here Looking at me Trying to figure out What you can see When I'm deep inside My inner shell Crying at all That brought You...
My mind is filled like a finger paint canvas. The colours, mixed in. The designs, original. The total result is not what the artist...
The cuts are the spoils from war. They decorate us with meaning and stories. The scars that are left, are memories nearly forgotten. Slowly...

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