Your naked body
Pressed on mine
We kissed

I thought that
I should feel
Something

Thrill, euphoria
Lust, love
Or bliss

But no
I felt
Nothing

It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived

There is not a word—
an emotion, a phrase, a thought—
that is new
My life is one lived
in the deep and muddy footprints
of those who came before
They took up all the words
all the feelings and ideas
I find myself despairingly unable
to be original
Is this what it means
to be born so late in time?

I think
I often let this idea stop me
I think
that because I feel that every part of me
is the opposite of unique
I shouldn't write at all
I shouldn’t create at all
I shouldn’t dream at all
I let these thoughts
tell me I have no business
trailing like a trembling, lost puppy after those who came before
not only did they come first—
it’s undeniable that they were better
I cannot compare
Every thought
I sit here spewing out
(letting the words burn on their way up and out)
has been contemplated before
Even this feeling
is not solely my own

I have yet to decide
if this is a comfort
or the world’s most profound tragedy

I have the comfort of knowing
that I will never be alone
Everything I feel
has already been processed
by a million others
I could then
turn my words into a commentary
on the interconnectedness
of the human existence

But I have a feeling
that in my sorrowful state
that envy
pity
and gloom
will find their way into my words
and tell me
I am nothing
because I did not come first
in the race
that doesn’t exist