Well, there's no accounting for the art that will inspire someone, just the art that will inspire someone. Humbly submitted, thus:

The Discarded Kimiko
2004 1006
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I am the discarded Kimiko
the one that sometimes peeks out from mirrors
the one that chased butterflies on that school trip
when the boy I liked laughed at me

went running at night feeling wishful,
to see if she could catch a ride
on a dawnward-falling star

the one she threw in the trash can
along with all her mail from the studios,
each letter polite and only one page

whose eyes she covers, annoyed,
when she pads her bra

the one who smiled without hesitation,
embraced happiness with both arms
who didn't hoard her joy carefully,
on the inside of her eyes,
along the lines of her laugh

The one not content pulling scraps
from ruins of expectation

She still shares her ramen with me, every day
but I don't eat very much

I was once Kimiko
the one that still stares out of mirrors
from here I can't shoot at the moon, and always miss,
and she tells me it's better that way

But all self-censure got her
was half scribbled out

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