For What Lies Hidden

A collection of all my poetry in an order I think makes reading it even more fun and exciting.

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87. Still Vulnerable

Everything from the past,

All that ever happened,

Is thought by some

To have gone, to have disappeared.

 

But it's not true

What they think of me,

I'm still vulnerable

And still insecure.

 

You think you can talk

Freely about anything,

Especially shape and size

But you can never really understand.

 

Because whenever it is mentioned

Stomachs turn somersaults

And feel slightly queasy,

Wishing you would stop.

 

Not over it

Having never got completely better,

Still wanting to return

To how it was.

 

Still vulnerable inside,

At this rate it always will be,

Even when it’s believed to have gone,

A knocking at the gate.

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