I am as alone as a matchstick
In a box full of matches...
I sometimes imagine getting out of the box,
Lighting myself up
...
Makeup and fake butts
Are all a form of art.
If you look just at that
To define beauty- alas!
...
Why? I asked God,
Must we breath the same air
As the ones who broke our hearts?
...
Feeling cold in my blankets i shivered
Wishing i wasn't the only one on this tiny bed
But I was the only one, no options do i get
So i told myself of how they were perfect- my blankets.
...
Matchsticks.
I am as alone as a matchstick
In a box full of matches...
I sometimes imagine getting out of the box,
Lighting myself up
Then spreading the fire to all the other matchsticks...
What a fire! ! ! ! I think to myself-
Probably its no fire at all to you and others.
But i have been living in a matchbox,
It's big to me.