observance
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She was always a mess
Scabs on her face
Dried blood under her fingernails
Her heart throbbed until
It crumbled
And pieces of it cluttered the floor
Like words in my mind that I wanted to say to her
They teach us to weave our fingers
To create intricate patterns in our hair.
To adorn the onlooker’s eyes.
Creating superficial monsters,
Policed by superficial consumers.
