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MarKesha Dean

I see but do not understand, my reflection condemning me, my thoughts over powering, not good enough, others more talented, not the favorite child as I always challenge authority. Breaking the mirror with such force, my hands freeing me but only for a moment. The price of my sanity; laceration on my right hand, broken shards of my pride, now the broken pieces look more like me than ever before.

 

 

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