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An Exploration of My Fear

By Kidlet, Morris, OK

I don’t know why,
All I know is that I’m afraid.
Maybe it’s because I prefer different things,
The way the breeze catches her locks,
Shining so beautifully in the sun,
The gentle curve of her hips,
As compared to the way he runs a hand over his head,
Ruffling and fluffing the perfect chaos that is his hair,
The reassuring structure of his jaw,
That’s not bad either.
Maybe I’m afraid of this,
Because of the horrified looks,
So often thrown my way,
Or the uncertainty of it,
Spinning me in oh so many circles,
Torn between which,
And why.
Maybe it’s because of so much hostility,

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