literature

Today I Write For Me.

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Literature Text

Dear World,
Today I write for me.

Not for the lists of people, that stretch,
names reaching out across infinite eternity,
Not for my love, my twisted, broken love,
Not for my sisters, my shadowed, golden sisters,
Not for the people who i have yet to warn, of
my erratic nature,
my dark and stupid ways,
Not for the ones who think of me, my shell,
my dry and fledgling onion skin -
not them, who in the open think me great,
and perfect,
and other, ridiculous things.

Dear World,
Today I write for me.

For the girl who sucks her thumb when no one's looking,
and never forgets fullstops.
For the girl who's mind is so open she sometimes feels a chill,
For the girl who misses her youth,
For the paint and the passion
and the sex and the dreams
and the butterflies in jars,
and the regretted christmas presents,
and the occasional conversations with mirrors.

For the girl who's reading this,
For December's long sleeves, and the faded scars,
For the private smiles, and the jaded memories
And all my failed trials.

Dear World,
For once, I refuse to care about you. I refuse to recycle. I will not eat healthy. I shan't apologise.
I am me, and I am how you made me.
So today -
I will write for me.
tildeathdouspart.
apparently, that's coming all to soon.
xoje.
© 2010 - 2024 WeTheInvisible
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