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Jun 2020
You’ve stopped talking to me and I don’t know why...

I hate this - this feeling - this anguish, with it’s retinue of mysteries.

Was it something I said? I’m sorry - I curse my rebel lips.

Was it something I didn’t say? I’m sorry - I was the unaware child.

I’m just a girl – not some faultless machine

There needs to be a manual – a manual for... everything - so Id know.

Is there a more contemporary narrative than disappointment at the hands of this Internet plaything - this toy-like trap we hope will inform us and we think we command?

I know questioning destroys some things.. but I don’t understand.

I don’t understand.
A poem about the mystery of rejection - it turns out I was overreacting =]   Oh, how rare =]
Anais Vionet
Written by
Anais Vionet  17/F/U.S.
(17/F/U.S.)   
134
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