I wish that I had been born
In the shape of you
And destined
For the same greatness
You with your elegant form
Your impeccable talent
And a face
That would make Helen of Troy
Weep with jealousy
How can such perfection
Thrive here, on this imperfect planet,
Among the chattel?
YOU ARE READING
furthermore
PoetryA poetic diary of sorts. A collection of poems chronicling my depression, suicidal ideation, and my journey through therapy.
