SEVENTEEN
I am raw dough
   that's been left out too long
   and shoved into the wrong mold
     
      while pieces of me fall to the floor
      and are swept under the rug

                  by sighs of contempt.

I am thrown into the heat of your world
   where I grow fat with expectation
   and emerge swollen and misshapen

                 from the hastiness of my decisions
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