Mar 2019
One day I'll read this
And ask myself if it were true;
And it always will be,
Even if I can't recall exactly how.
Will I believe I was mean?
Spitfire with scorpion sting,
Gnashing teeth,
Breathing flames like a Phoenix fire?
Or will I be real?
Hurting inside like the rest of us
Insecure and flesh-rotting
Unbelievably happy, in spite of everything?
I'll try to remember
And ask myself if it were true;
And it always will be,
Even if I can't recall exactly how.
Will I believe I was mean?
Spitfire with scorpion sting,
Gnashing teeth,
Breathing flames like a Phoenix fire?
Or will I be real?
Hurting inside like the rest of us
Insecure and flesh-rotting
Unbelievably happy, in spite of everything?
I'll try to remember
I found an old book of poems from when I was a freshman in high school, and tried to remember how it felt when I wrote them. This is inspired by that.
