Faulty
Sometimes,
I feel like
I belong
But I always
Screw it up
With my trippy words
And faulty tongue
And impulses,
The harshness of my personality
The way my hair gets messy
And stays that way,
How I usually tell my secrets
Too easily
So I write
Because words have a way
Of bringing forth beauty
Even in the messy situation
Of me
So here I am
A faulty piece of machinery
In the back of the factory
Pumping out words.
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