whatchacallit

the whatchacallit;
a thing hard to fault.

not even regarded by its Christian name, an
unfortunate face only
mothers love if

they did
at all.

the thingamabob
equally robbed of
dignity and grace, awkward every step it

took to progress what should’ve been
a cinch.

I was the frog,
but never did a
prince reside within

unforgiven
dermatology .

To ribbons caught on wheel wells,
even sunsets  ain’t
much of
an apology when
you’re dragged behind for miles.

You just stop looking for
dirt where your
vibrance
should

be.

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