Desire

To be the object of desire What must it feel like? To want to be the object of desire Is a disease drilled into the mind You go round in blurry visions Only to come home to disappointment Like a period in The Handmaid’s tale To be the object of desire must be like Receiving…

You say I’m crazy

You and I, we didn’t make that vow Better for you and worse for me And centuries, years, later now It proves in the way it still hurts deep For years growing up I’ve had my fair share of doubts Denying every difference with a tear And sitting through the habitual silent blow-outs You say…