(workshop poetry from UrbanWordNYC)
4-5-05
I'm a little toxyturvy and confused because of the hidden abuse you've allowed me to contend just to rejoice with the spirit that you posses of freedom and succession. I couldn't find the words to explain your greatest even in your grittiest moments of my life. Maslow would declare you the psychologically healthy beyond your peers even though you despise the very fears that lock you in with your peers. I've never witnessed such individuality with the ability to turn tests into the water of rainbow with an inexplicable touch. I've never felt so at home with a bully that keeps me vulnerable... On my tippy toes waiting for you to breathe so i can inhale every opportunity of connecting with your grace.
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