And sometimes I revel in it.
It is a sadness,
and a sober spot,
and a pleasure,
and a relief.
It is forsaken,
a haven,
a solace,
and a peace.
I am a nobody.
And sometimes my heart aches.
But as I spring up on my bed,
singing to my rose gold microphone,
I feel an odd freedom.
It hurts, and it heals.
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