I've Been Talking to Myself for Hours [A Poem]

I've been talking to myself for hours
As if the stars and the moon have time for me
I yearn to see what they see of me
Maybe my freckles are dainty but charming
Maybe the weight I carry is the cutest baggage
Maybe my heart is anything but savage

Or am I the way I seem to be to me

A fist full of words like tiny daggers
Squeezing until my palms bleed
Clenching teeth as they seethe
A forest of dark cloud and trees
Desiccated branches too tired to breathe
A voice full of shards of glass, I choke

And hang on every single word I spoke 

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