The brain freeze, that is. As proof, I offer to you this incomplete, as yet untitled poem:
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no i’m not an innocent
but does that give you
reason to dismiss
my words of affection
how precious
are these pieces of my soul
i presented to you
only to hear
rejection
of my confession
because
i’m not pure
i can see you
through the glass
looking at your pile of stones
deciding which to throw
your hesitation
speaks volumes
about the
precariousness
of your foundation
so be it
we dance this dance
of insincerity and
make believe
pretending lies aren’t
razor sharp
and we don’t bleed
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Nice, huh? More to come, insha’Allah!
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