I spell my name
differently,
each time
someone asks.
but when i say it out loud,
i take off my mask.
it makes me feel different,
for a reason unknown.
and as soon as i sign,
i remember my home.
my title has no story
but a hospital bed,
but here i am writing
after my parents wed.
my origin long ago,
gave me this name.
even if i absolutely abhor it,
it will always
stay the same.
YOU ARE READING
a lil' bit of this, a lil' bit of that
PoetryI didn't choose to be here, on this earth. i am forced to wake up everyday and write these shit poems. since i'm already trapped here i guess i'll make a few memories. maybe go for a jog... who am i kidding. i'll stay home and continue writing about...
