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The Delicacy of Joy
The quiet kindness present in the world coils my stomach into intricate knots, and I wonder if happiness has ever failed to sketch a smile, when did we learn to bury our innate joy? I assure you, my flinch was unintentional, a raised hand though, echoes a roaring voice, and a clenched fist also is a frightened, vulnerable girl. So when I tell you I am scared, please don’t mistake my fear for distrust. No one has held me gently and I’m sure the next time I’m dropped, I’ll shatter.

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