Lemon lime personality.

Sharp neon shards of Me-ness taste

like candy, burst into flame

if touched by a friend.

My lips are coated with white quartz,

Multi-hued lipstick slathered on.


My personality breaks off in shards

like hundreds of tons of rock I once saw

fall from a cliff into a river,

but hopefully not hitting that hard,

crushing with unimaginable weight,

stabbing nearest and dearest with the finer points

of meager personal philosophy.

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