If poetry wasn't meant to be felt then why does every word hit your chest as if you re-lived a certain moment?
If poetry wasn't made to be relatable then why does every line feel so close as if you wrote the piece yourself?
We've all been there an...
I'm burnt Like toast when you forget to pop it Like paper that's flamed into crumpled black Like an overused candle wicker with an angry flame I'm still in tact, but one more touch and I'll fall apart.
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