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Really, Chelsea? ...wow.
"Life’s but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

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Friday
Invincible, a poem

You do what you want good dancer
because you are invincible
your actions are invisible
you make no ripples with your actions

so you eat eat eat
all the bounty from the earth
until one sad day your nothingness
is a very apparent nothingness

and so you hurt hurt hurt
because they should love you unconditionally
until one day you speak
and there's no ears to hear it

and so you thrash, cry, bruise
because you forgot how to deal with others actions
that crush your ribcage so

and so good dancer you hurt
because you're not invincible
because you're actions aren't invisible
but you are so visibly alone