Two unfinished drafts.
"Your turn"
It's your turn,
To make me feel what you felt.
It's okay, really, you deserve that much closure,
You're something beautiful who always deserved better,
And so it's okay.
I feel broken again, left behind, which is how you felt,
And so I deserve it.
You are acting like I did, and it's to protect yourself, and no matter how much you try to convince me it's not, I see through you because I did the same thing.
---
I
'm unique in that I am made in all the wrong ways,
Hard wired to have faulty connections and frayed ends,
Doomed and simultaneously "blessed".
Give him a body that will always be wrong,
And make it even worse by giving him a problem he has the power to fix,
But don't give him the willpower to fix it.
Give him kindness unrelenting,
But let fate continue to destroy him and fight with his instincts to help and love,
Traumatizing him and "adding depth" to his life.
But there's a warm boy out there that wants him to know
His body isn't wrong,
---
It felt wrong to write these just to delete the words. One of them was interrupted by a conversation that abated my fears, and the other by sleep.
I've been letting them sit for months now. Figured if I can't delete them I may as well share them.
YOU ARE READING
Air Conditioning
PoetryVent poetry It's frowned upon putting your heart on your sleeve with such a weak code like a three number pin. For both of our sakes I hope you aren't the type to spend your time digging your claws in and working to decode someone else's words an...
