The story of my life:

a poem.

He wrote to be like somebody else,

She wrote to be herself.

He never understood her take on life

She always felt his poems were lies

He read and attempted to reinvent her work

She tried to feel something out of his words

He insisted on changing her style

She wouldn’t give in or give up on her idyll

He mewled and writhed to have her heart

She fought for it too, to own her art

He failed to understand where her true self lied

She always knew her fate was not in his hands.

And so it begins, a true love’s tale

between the girl who believed

and the stories she read.

To be brave is to be thine own self.

The story of my life…