Your mind like a hammer
Tools used to construct your identity
Witness the wood, the nails, the 3M double stick
Exist between the studs, beneath the sheetrock
Pine wishing it were Mahogany
Nails wishing they were hinges
If it can be labeled
It can not be you
Honor what you have constructed
But only find yourself in the space around it
Space can not be claimed nor can it be destroyed
Space can not be defined
Neither can you.
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