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carpenters daughter

I’m a carpenters daughter

I fold napkins to stabilize the dinner table

I know the difference between flat and Phillips

I can measure length and mark it with a pencil without an eraser

Because this is precise

No mistakes

Just scarps put together by hands that crack and bleed

I am a broken human

who knows how to fix things

but not my own heart

I am a clueless child

who sees adults hurt each other

but I know nothing of their intentions

I was never taught more than meets the eye

I was never taught how to let my body break

and how to let my soul cry

I am a broken human

with a dad who can fix anything but his daughter

I lack a smooth finish

I can’t withstand the weight

I’m human

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