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Disappearing.

“Do you think they can see me?”
I ask myself.
Of course, they can.
They have two eyes and you’re right here.
Alive and breathing still.
I wonder if they can see through my pants
See the hands that have touched my skin
See my own hands.
I wonder if they’re guessing all my secrets.
Or if the shame is written so boldly on my face
that they don’t have to.
I wonder if I throw on another layer,
will I be harder to notice?
If I throw on three will I be invisible?

m.e. peters

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Art Credit: @sparksflyidraw