The Thing

Here’s the thing, it’s I must fear.

Everyone. I can’t steer clear.

My life is a story.

That’s why I worry,

Can’t be loved.

So ungloved.

My heart is lonely,

No family owns me,

So I can’t see,

What point it be.

To deliver my full self. When I’m rotting on the shelf. Look past me with thoughts on my worth. Been shaped since birth to just get hurt. Don’t relate? No need to hate. I can’t consider you in my new meter. My palindrome leaves me alone, I’ll never call a place a home.

But I accept it.

And I’ll own it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: