The closet of my existence

So you think I grew up in a bubble
surrounded by smiling teddy bears and chocolate ice cream
Well, perhaps there is a tinge of cotton candy sweetness in my past
my father painted my room white with a black closet as a compromise
he laughed and said it looks like the pits of hell
I smile and laugh, but sometimes I feel like I was raised there
I grew up like every other girl
dressed in pink with frilly bows in my hair
Somewhere along the line I started "acting" like a boy
So I don't wear makeup or spend hours on my hair
skirts don't reveal the many cuts on my abused legs
I'd rather read one of the books that line my closet, then spend an hour in the mall
People say that I've had a sheltered upbringing
but I know what's around me, I just try to ignore it
I guess I'd rather be best friends with Emily Dickinson, then socities "perfect" mold

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