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Confusion of the Century





The craving for complexity


Simple is not what I need


The glory of rebellion has faded


This is clear, vinegar, honesty


The arrogance of imagination


The substance in routine


I cry about my selfish winter


So deep rooted is my fear of me


The Coldplay lyric comes back again


Oh, the want to numb the pain


Words are skin on me as they skin me


Unique, perplexing qualities


All the women I can't see


The examples I seek to need


Is it okay for me to seek my freedom?



So differently from ones around me?


Can I live how I want to?


Is that okay?


And will I be?


Through this confusion of my century?


An Artist or a Woman?



Do I need to choose? Exclusively?







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