I'm a woman made of a thousand mirrors
Yet his reflection is all I see
Bold and beloved; accepted by others
He's all I've ever wanted to be
He's a man of charisma; a man of great charm
He has a light no one has ever tried to dim
He shot me a smile, and I fell to my knees
Lord, why can't I be him?
I knew he was different the moment I met him
I knew he was something like me
But 31 years, and he's never frowned
I suppose it's because he is free
He's the type of different that is loved by others
I swore the sun sang when he woke
The type of different that the world was built for
He was never called "special" when he spoke
He never had to learn how to be someone else
The ground would catch him if he fell
They didn't laugh at his words, then call him quiet
He was never forced into a shell
That's the difference between him and I
He has a skill I wish I could learn
Ridden with envy, I weep where he walks
If they embraced him, why did I have to burn?
That could have been me, if they let me exist
But they drowned my light until it was dim
When I see him, I mourn what could have been mine
Because I know I'll never be him.
YOU ARE READING
Written in Red
PoetryA compilation of poetry I wrote during high school about sexuality, heartbreak, navigating the world as an autistic woman, dysfunctional families, grooming and abuse, and more.
