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The Changeling Thinks to Reveal Themself

By B.A. O'Connell

You’ll never really know me

I’m not a thing you can hold

— just a photograph between

finger and thumb you are staring

at until you’re numb

I'm locked in a tower of my own making

aware of my painful faking

dreaming of flying

and looking to jump

into my casket

waiting below

you're staring at me from the ground

— I know you want to

touch the realest parts of me

but I’m all reflection and glass

you only love me

cause your eyes meet your gaze.

I’ve been in love before

you’re not special in that kinda way,

but I am about to shatter

apart on the space beside your feet —

just cause I have to be seen,

now that I’ve seen you.


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