Wetlands

I’m a whore for attention

Meaning I’m horrible at honorable mentions

Ask me my situation

I’ll cover my face with my hands

Feeling like this is an intervention

I think we all want to be known

But when people start to know us

It feels like sand paper

Scrapping against our rough edges

Us scrapping and getting cut against theirs

I want to be known

But hate the process

My sensitivities

My wounds and scares

Seeing stars

From stepping on bruises

And broken bones

They had no way of knowing

Were there

And now with technology

There’s

101 more ways of being humiliated

So I think I’ll pass on being known

Because I know alone

All too well

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