I don’t want
to see change
or any blessing.
I wasn’t a cause
or your purpose;
I was invisible.
It wasn’t
how I thought
it should be.
Listen
to who I was;
a lost spirit, gone.
Pouring me
onto your palm
I was no anecdote.
I was no cure,
just 2nd place;
an excuse.
You raised
the sleeping demon
in me.
In your arms,
I was just, always
the second girl.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem