Do I belong?
No.
No, I don’t belong.
Does that make it easier for you?
She is on a different journey.
Wandering her own way. Rising above monstrosities that cultivate hate and fear.
Shockingly…
I didn’t need to live in an apartment full of mirrors,
constantly surveilling,
scanning your image and mine.
She is on a path of her own.
She is kind
She moves slow
She is soft
She flows
Lyrical and feeling
She is on her own journey,
with two parents walking behind her lovingly.
The narrative you wanted but didn’t get,
so you had to ruin it for anyone else who could walk in love without involving you.
Burn my book.
Read your narrative indefinitely.
We don’t belong,
and we never will.
