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i wish they wore blindfolds

they laugh, they talk:

open and free.

a head full of ideas

and yet, her size is all they seem to


“like I care” she brushes it of


but it does matter to her.

in the silence of the twilight,

in the absence of a gaze,

it does matter to her.

hot, sexy or ugly,

good enough or not,

thin or fat?

why is this the only thing people look at?

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