Sunday, 30 November 2025

inward

Perfect the day of our meet, a confident sheister
clever in words, speaking so sweet
years of struggle have laid my soul bare
torn apart, not for the first, the second, the last 
loving you with all we have in the past.

ugly as a monster, unbearably weak
cannot feel or dare to speak
once again to feel thy worth
a nothing person from the day of birth 
fighting to keep down weight of an outgrown girth 

living a life creating confusion 
if I never had to speak again, I would not
yet my soul aches for the correct words, I have forgot.
confusion negotiates a destructive history
yet a grounding impact is my only fish tree

Now I don’t know what life is to be




 
 

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