Just because you shed your skin,
it doesn’t change who you are,
we’re but a mixture of hot and cold,
phlegm and vapid,
lore and lies.

Peeling is not the same as shedding,
you have to find the semblance of yourself,
in the grotesque,
languish and bathe,
in what doesn’t perfume you immediately.

You have to be willing,
to put up with your stench,
if you want to sift through,
the sewage of all that doesn’t matter,
to find what does.


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