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As each year passes
I wonder
When the anger and pain will cease.
Every time I’m sure it’s gone
It sneaks around the corner
To sneer at me
Remind me of my blind faith
My flaws and weaknesses
And
The scars that formed me.
I’ve never held on to these things before.
Is this what a licking looks like
Have I been beaten
Or is this change
In all it’s seductive, grotesque and painful glory
I am the sad child
Who wants none
The tough kid with a broken heart
Who needs restoration
I am a fixer upper
I’m vintage
I’m a goddam barn find.
Like a Bugatti Type 57…
whose timeless curves
are immediately recognized
by any discerning individual…
even in a dimly lit barn.
oh, the fortunate treasure hunter…
scruff
I heart you too.
Like a Bugatti Type 57…
whose timeless curves
are immediately recognized
by any discerning individual…
even in a dimly lit barn.
oh, the fortunate treasure hunter…
Aw shucks.