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Secrets Hidden
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Personal- Melancholy The ugliest parts of me-
those intricately layered
beneath folds of skin-
have been fortified in brick;
secrets like clay hardened-
and mortared masks
bonded carefully.
The flesh on the surface
is such a lie, concealing
what I choose to hide
to prevent their ridicule;
I know if they see the truth
they will taunt me like
the reflection in the mirror.
