being the other
I'm used to this
I find comfort in never really being known by the people I care for
I am the escape
the breath of fresh air
the break
I am not the permanent
not the commitment
not the priority
I come without obligation
I come without responsibility
I come tied with a bow
but when I start feeling
(and I always do)
that's where it ends
suddenly I am guilt
I am a reminder of all that you use me to escape from
I am a weeping witch
suddenly you can't escape me
suddenly you need me to be distance
I need to be a memory
I need to be tucked away
I lose my shimmer and I rot before your eyes
I spoil in seconds
rapidly crumbling into sewage
I am the dirt on your shoe
I am the itch on the unreachable part of your back
I'm the buzzing gnat you swat away
I was never whole
you never caught a glimpse of me
I was my use
I was how I made you feel
I was everything you ran away from
I'm used to this
being the other
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 8:50 PM UTC
being the other
I'm used to this
I find comfort in never really being known by the people I care for
I am the escape
the breath of fresh air
the break
I am not the permanent
not the commitment
not the priority
I come without obligation
I come without responsibility
I come tied with a bow
but when I start feeling
(and I always do)
that's where it ends
suddenly I am guilt
I am a reminder of all that you use me to escape from
I am a weeping witch
suddenly you can't escape me
suddenly you need me to be distance
I need to be a memory
I need to be tucked away
I lose my shimmer and I rot before your eyes
I spoil in seconds
rapidly crumbling into sewage
I am the dirt on your shoe
I am the itch on the unreachable part of your back
I'm the buzzing gnat you swat away
I was never whole
you never caught a glimpse of me
I was my use
I was how I made you feel
I was everything you ran away from
I'm used to this
being the other