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I’m A Mouse Poem

Burning my brain,

Smoking my shame

One time the front of my house burnt down,

It scared me to the bone

I wish I could call some place my home.

I labeled these places as houses

I feel like I’m running with mouses

Following the rules of humans.

Forcing us into tiny corners.

Or is it me that forces myself?

Do I cause this isolation?

Do I want this isolation or does depression want me?
Depicting pain through my own art

I wish I could just fall apart.

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