I have a purpose
I am something
I am supposed to be here
What will happen when my purpose disappears?
What will happen when I’m no longer ripe?
What will become of me when I’m discarded in the dirt?
Once a blossom
Now I’m nothing more
Nothing more than the hole my purpose once filled
Nothing more than what made me feel real
What once made me feel real is now providing tangibility to another
A girl I never was
A girl you write sonnets about
A girl you would wage war for
A girl that is so effortlessly magic
A girl that you would wait for, no matter how many years passed
A girl that makes you feel real
Why can’t I be her?
Why don’t I make you feel real?
What is my purpose if not to heal?
What is my purpose?
For a brief second, I become real
I become seen
The person across is looking at me
That second is gone
What will happen when my purpose disappears?
How could I win if there’s nothing within?
How could I win when I’m undeserving?
How could I win when I indulge my sins?
How could I win if there’s no purpose I’m serving?
I had a purpose
I was something