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Writer's pictureBethany Stimac

Changing Colors

so now i'm staring and flaring

and i’m caring about

the doorsteps that are daunted

i wonder if it changed color like

the other and the smothered so that

it’s visage and voice and

it’s flavor flaked with choice

got shredded off with noise and are

lingering mere and flaunted

i glanced over at that bad man, vanity

he was hanging out with sadness

made me even guess my sanity

for once it doesn’t matter

like the toned fall and the can-i-be

cause im looking at my phone and

don't see i’m undiscerning


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