If you were to crack me open,
run your eyes along my inner creases,
peak though my lines like venetian blinds,
you would find secrets there.
Some poetic,
some outright painful.
You may think the latter unpurposed
but ruffle through my pages a bit further.
You will find there meaning.
Nestled in-between my artistic cage
and still beating heart.
Between freedome,
and fear of the same.
There is life,
hearts everywhere.
Some shaded with darkness.
There is unfinished thoughts as well as unfulfilled destinies.
And gems,
hidden within the concaves of my soul.
You may find me batterd
broken
but don't ignore the vilet roses blooming
in my bruises.
I am beautiful.
There are butterflies in the darkness of my stomach.
I am brimming with life.
Call me inatimate when you care to take note of my vibrance
but when you shift your notice,
you will realize that you cannot escape me.
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