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Illustration by @dariaesste
You, fake unspecial dull-colored disappointment
You, fireworks turned to droplets of glitters
You were always left alone
Instead of water, your vase is filled with stones
Your skin brittle and dry
Your body thin and thornless
You pride yourself on not getting to hurt anyone
And yet nobody has touched you
Rain is a speck of glue
Sunlight, a stranger you never met
They say you'll never need it
One theory is that you will die like this
Believing you never had a life
Surrounded by webs and dust hidden in the dark
But I do not believe it
You are still here
Still here standing still
It is not your fault people are dumb enough to not see you
To want roses that die
To want something whose odor gets foul as time goes by
Another theory is that because you are a fake
A replica of a beauty that cannot last
But you are a disappointment
You never could acquire the fragrance the "real" ones had
You are a painting of a fruit basket
The braille of words
A remedy to a known cure
But I also do not believe that
How can a fake be something so different
How can a replica have an identity
It is never because of sharing the same dagger of vanity
But that does not matter isn't it?
You are you
Unchanging
Your petals do not wither in autumn
The same way your grief never goes away
You asked yourself "why am I here?"
Left behind from styrofoam stands
And failed confessions
You see, the thing about grief
Is it is worse when you are the only one who feels it
465 Launches
Part of the Love collection
Published on February 16, 2018
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