maybe i’m maladjusted. maybe i was born sideways.
i can’t imagine a world in which i am the most evil trollop in a room of trouts
flopping about
begging for a drop of water
a speck of air
maybe i am incredibly evil
and the rest of you are incredibly right
and i only exist in what’s dark and granite and filthy
i can never rise above the gloom to see the stars
you’ve been blessed with them in the apples of your cheeks,
haven’t you?
and thusly i must bow
at the feet of those cheeks
and hope and pray and wish for the day
when you deign to look at me
no.
no i will not.
no i cannot.
no i refuse.
if i chose to no longer participate in the facade of this life
in the grand delusion of several young girls
it isn’t because i’ve been divinely illumined
it isn’t because i’ve been granted any sort of license to appoint flaws
i can point to plenty of my own
maybe it’s only because
my stomach is weak
and cannot digest the bizarre go rounds you live in
my mind is simple
and cannot process the unreal statements you hold as biblical
maybe i’m maladjusted. maybe i was born sideways.
if this is the case,
ignore me.
kindly, leave me be.
i’ll survive in my crooked vision.
i’ll make due with what kaleidoscope i must see from.
and above all,
keep your distance.
it might be catching.
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