instead of winning
if i lose
will you stop calling
me pretentious?
/
instead of giving
if i take
will you stop telling
me that i'm fake?
/
leave me alone; don't let me know
(who i heard) was it a dream, or was it you?
never could tell who's friend, who's foe
well you taught me to fly; you're why i fall
/
be it mind or heart; just tell me what's real
'cuz we don't get to pick what we get to feel
but this stained-glass soul is all i got
that let me fly; that let me fall.
/
so you'll tear me apart
and that's how i learn
to piece myself back together.
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YOU ARE READING
cacophony
Poésiea trail of poetry drawn between inward glances because i gave up on shouting myself down. | voice one: 01-13 | voice two: 16-29 | voice three: 30-36 | voice four: 37-42 | p.s. the first few poems are really bad. ~ hymn ©2020