She had always loved dark chocolates,
Over milk,
Black roses,
Over red,
Water
Over red wine.
She preferred salad,
Over steak,
Plastic,
Over pearls,
Superman,
Over Batman.
She liked the top of towers
More than Starbucks,
Liked the cold
More than Summer,
Liked the cracked picture frames
More than the photo itself.
She received tears
Instead of smiles,
Blows instead of hugs,
Bitter words instead of praises,
Hate instead of love.
What they didn't know was that,
She was lactose intolerant,
Color-blind,
15,
Vegetarian,
Poor,
Sympathetic.
To her,
Standing at tippy-top feels like flying,
Standing in the cold means pure, white snow,
Cracked frames are art,
Pictures are nightmare.
All she wanted to do
Was be herself,
Learning to
Love herself before reaching out.
She wanted to believe that,
Religion, race, age, income, health,
Matters not,
That she could
Still be loved.
YOU ARE READING
Superman Can't Fly
PoesiaA collision of sadness, pain, desire and so much more. There are lots of impossible things that we believed to be possible such as mending a broken heart, forgetting a traumatic past and reliving the most joyous moments. Sometimes, it seems like the...
