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baked goods with identity crises.

i only wish i were a snickerdoodle.
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And she's kind of like a poet
who finds it hard to speak.
Poems come so slowly
like colours down a sheet.

perhaps there should be a warning attached somewhere: beware, abuses punctuation (and parentheses, alike).
though, mostly: i just hate my own writing. i'm only forced to suffer them because no one would write my stories for me.
(the mangling of) punctuation, and, words words words