“ sometimes i don’t feel like a person ”
► POETRY PROMPTS. » not accepting.
✝ ———- but what makes a person ? is it just flesh & bone & opposable thumbs ? the capacity to think & lack of sense to deviate from that cliff regardless ? the gentle murmur of death lulling them into sleep every night ? it is nothing as vapid as a person , nothing as beautifully intricate . nothing as blissful & fickle & utterly unfathomable as the humane . it is but a tale for stormy nights , a shadow bleeding from agape closets , an echo of everlasting death forever wandering these long , haunted hallways of manor androshchuk ; but sometimes , it feels like one ; when its red - rose mouth curves just the right way & its glossed eyes crinkle , when the moon kisses its skin with gelid light & bony hands palpate just the right parts .
❝ and what do you feel like ? a disappointment ? a memory of a girl who never really was ? a living , breathing weapon forged from birth ? ❞ it glides dangerously near , as though its feet merely hover above the crimson carpet underneath her feet , a nail plucking stray hairs that hide her cerise cheeks . ❝ you can be plenty in a single lifetime , did you know ? i was a beautiful boy to some , and a bitter disappointment to others , and a little deadly demon to many more ... what do you feel like today ? ❞
