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  • Writer's pictureKyx

scrunchie




without you my wrist feels empty:

my partner-in-crime when i’m lazing,

soaked when i run in the rain,

hold my hair up when it’s blazing.


colour as arresting as a stop sign,

you don’t halt many in their tracks;

but from afar, people know me

from you. yeah, i think that tracks.


but at some point i have to wonder:

has the dye of your colour bled

into the pigment of my skin?

if you’re absent from my head,


will people still know who i am?

who am i without you?

am i remembered for my traits?

or will “who is she?” be my truth?


bought for only five bucks

are you a complement to me?

are you an addition to my look?

or a parasite that stole my identity?

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