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In this shell
I wish I was breathing deeply
of those breaths that keep me weeping
purging sin
purging my own disguise
I've been so much I can't remember being
anything less than this real sense of me
but am I anything more than an entity
a specter everyone must "look and see"
a chamaeleon blending into my own skin
unconformed
surrounded by petty slavery
succumbing to my disease
and what is my identity?
I am me
but am I truly free?
I must be as I have always been
I must live as one within
