What’s the point of a name if no one
remembers my soul
Just shallow
eyes that
are looked into but never
really learned
Does it
matter my favorite color
if it’s just smeared along
the wall
You meet my scars
to highlight them
in a crimson stain.
You ask for my hand just to
twist my wrist against your embrace.
Sure. Spell
my name out in a whispered breath.
Memorize my heart beat and
then wonder if I have veins.
Show me what it’s like to be
loved for a
moment and fine
me for my foolish belief.
Outline my face with your gaze and
tell me you never met me.
Line me up perfectly and kick me
aside with so much might.
What’s the point if I’m only ever a name.
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