The Boomerang

I never imagined myself as an ambidextrous person

Feeling my conscience melt to purple

Always craving waffles because they have holes

And holes are incomplete

Feeling like a boomerang

Flying toward the Sun

The Sun engulfing the outline

hoping it switches like an ambidextrous person twisting between hands

But

boomerangs always come back to the owner

Smashing the face

leaving a pounding purple mark under your eye

And holes in your teeth

Making them look like waffles

Waffles that have been over cooked

Looking like a dead Sun with no power

And holes your core

But

I never imagined myself as an ambidextrous person

Feeling my conscience melt to purple

And feeling like a boomerang

That will never return.

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