Poetry

Bent

Twisted into a form

Broken from a gash

Garnished with distractions

Spiced with change

.

Boiled in emotion

Simmered with aids

Broiled in helpers

I just can’t swallow it

.

Mind is tasted

Decisions are drunk

You cannot sip it

No matter the fight

.

I’m molded anew

Grown to adjust

Brightness of bending

Of starting again

.

Bent isn’t broken

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