Silhouettes of Armor

Days I'm feeling child old
 
I tremor, in the changing
 
I keep things in.. protectively
 
beneath my breast - a vault
 

 
I write on leaves like stationary
 
weightless words, that hold
 

 
and all those dreams
 
I'll never speak to?
 

 
sacredly
 
hold
 
hostage
 
..in my soul 

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