Original SOLD
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The words written on the image are my own prose:

This path winds a little too much for my comfort level.
Why must it twist and turn so, and I with it?
I have contorted to flow with the world, and it exhausts me to see my strong outline, still,
struggling against the shadow of expectation.
It occurs to me, now, that
if I learn to love the struggle,
it might become a dance.