can you please listen to me?
she is beautiful either way.
she is beautiful anyway.
she is enjoyable
and she is
loveable and loved
and loving and
she is 18.
she doesn’t always know how
to be 18
and it just happened one day;
she didn’t plan it. she didn’t know it.
but she is learning,
she is making mistakes
but she is learning.
and one day this year will
be exactly that;
a year.
and the sand of time
will remember her name.
can you start living life instead of
narrating it?
everything isn’t poetry
until i see it with my
eyes and breathe it with
my lungs
and it is suddenly
woven somewhere
in third person
or in a metaphor.
don’t get lost
in my poems there
is a maze of confusion
and i will not rescue you.
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