One that makes you larger, one that makes you small

Standard

Rest on my table by my bed

In your brightly coloured dress;

Signs of were and is and might still be

All piled together in white and pink.

I may acknowledge but I resent

I want what it was and what it wasn’t.

These days I can’t seem to make

My own mind amidst the contradictions.

It’s not your fault-

Or maybe it is- I know not.

So I keep staring.

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