the story of me becoming yours

when we were young, and hand fed drugs
to harmonize us with
socially acceptable
outcomes

I could’ve sworn you’d
be a tower
casting
shadows every hour of the day.

while I still felt love, rather
than shards of its
paltry sum,

I still
added up like my parents intended,
chromosomes of a
grammatically correct
sentence,

yet missing the
structure that made it all flow.

And slowly, yet surely, your
foundations collapsed
early
and I was
always a variable short of
being more than
unknown.

Once I imagined
your success and thought I’d be
a crumpled paper on
your desk,

ideas lost between
the drafts.

Never imagined I’d be
the one
writing our
epilogues,

still trying to
process
the climax of
your
final
masterpiece;

the story of me
becoming yours.

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3 thoughts on “the story of me becoming yours

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