space is an odd thing to have
it goes beyond boundaries
you’re there—
I am here—
and yet our space never merged.
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I touched your cheek twice. You let me. I regretted it. Now I have nothing to think about but your cheeks and that dirt on your face that I had to remove. You told me I am abnormal because I have no hairs growing on my skin. And then you touched my arm and set it against the light. "You have at least 3 hairs growing in your arms, that's about it!". You think I didn't notice? You like touching my arm.
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I am bothered by my friend’s dilemma. I would like to reach out to her but she would not let me. She would not even tell me things. The only reason why I am keeping myself visible online (even on a busy mode) was for her to buzz me and tell me: “hey!”
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