Member-only story
Poetry
Unless
Perhaps
I’m forced to play a game
I no longer want to play
Drinking liquid sugar to stay alive
Time trickles down my hands
They told me, “Go and be a man!”
I’m falling and tumbling very hard,
I feel the cards were all stacked against my game
Perhaps it’s me; I don’t know the way to play.
There was a time when I believed the world had rules.
But now I know they are all fake.
They told me all these little lies,
I tried to comply very hard.
They told me, “I sense anger in your words.”
I wanted to say, “Of butterflies I want to write!
I’m sorry, and waterfalls,
As much as the person by my side!”
But there is an anger
Expressing itself as sadness,
And a sadness that appears as anger.
And I want to let them out slowly in trickles,
So perhaps I don’t explode.
In all this,
I never tried to be myself.
Always, however, someone else.
In all this dizziness,
I…
