I don't get over things I learn to live with them Like chipped porcelain I know what belongs to me by its blemishes I have been carved by papercuts I have been honed by coarse words My wounds become scars become pen marks Did I deserve such careless treatment Fuck no I didn't And I won't pretend I have mastered forgiveness But I have learned to treasure my imperfections And their mosaic wisdom Even if I only get to keep them Because no one else wants them
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