Always having to prove the goodness of my heart,
And my intentions.
Your dislike for me becomes a dislike for myself.
How do I stop your thoughts from clouding, and becoming, mine;
Ingested and digested but never excreted.
Too much waste for one person to carry (around).
To you, my exterior is like a cactus.
But to me, on the inside, I am the plant without sunlight:
Fragile.
© shellyhu
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