They say I have my mothers smile and her mouth. Not just the shape, but the things that come out of it. I've heard I have my fathers build and his mannerism, slim and awkward. I'm like a falling down building people take scraps from. I'm built out of pieces of other people not like the monster from Frankenstein no, like someone who doesn't know who they are because all they know is how to not be someone else. Who was I then that I am not me now? Not made of distinct characteristics, made from the tendencies to not act like someone else simply to avoid the war. The war on me, the war I started, the war in me. -FFK
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3:37am
PoetryOriginal poems and truths for the broken and lonely. Mostly inspired from books.
