Let me be more empty
I want to be an empty vessel, I want to sink beneath the waves, I want to accept I am alone, I have been alone, I will be alone.
I am lovely, I am kind, I could have made them love me. I should have held their hand longer and wept with joy while we both exclaimed our love for each other.
But I am cracked and parched earth, whatever is planted here will not take root. If only you knew that the rains will not arrive and that all this toil and pain and blood will amount to dust.
I am sorry, I could have been great, I could have made them love me, but I find performance tiring and the director hasn’t given me notes on what I’m doing wrong. Their silence is comforting at this point.
I am sorry, I could have been great, I could have loved myself, but how could you love such an imperfect person. Such a mistake. I was extracted not birthed, I had tied a noose about my neck out of my own umbilical cord. The type of thing that would be considered “heavy handed” foreshadowing in a fictional book when the character inevitably ends it.
I don’t want to end it, but I don’t feel like sticking around much anymore, I know I am alone, have been alone, will be alone.
I just wish I had been a better friend
I am lovely, I am kind, I could have made them love me. I should have held their hand longer and wept with joy while we both exclaimed our love for each other into the night.
I still love a ghost all these years later.
