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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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