On the first day, I was born into a wrong body.
On the second day, I turned into a mirrored copy.
On the third day, I pushed everyone away.
On the fourth day, begged anyone to stay.
On the fifth day, I cried on my own.
On the sixth day, I was completely alone.
On the seventh day, I found myself,
But at that point, I was only a living shell.
Dec 18, 2024
Dec 18, 2024 at 8:38 PM UTC
On the first day, I was born into a wrong body.
On the second day, I turned into a mirrored copy.
On the third day, I pushed everyone away.
On the fourth day, begged anyone to stay.
On the fifth day, I cried on my own.
On the sixth day, I was completely alone.
On the seventh day, I found myself,
But at that point, I was only a living shell.
Quick poem after a difficult day that popped up in my brain.
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