Blue hands moving in the shape of wings. The person is wearing a long-sleeved pink top with pink nails.

Painted skin

I’ve stopped fearing change.

And the people that I love

Who will come to dislike these changes.

Because though birds may flock together,

My feathers have never been the same.

There’s no one to blame,

When I’m the one wearing this painted skin.

So don’t be afraid if your wings,

Slowly, slowly,

Turn into fins.

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