A life not mine
I found a book with someone else’s name inside
a reminder that she was loved, encouraged, chosen.
But I am not Mary Angie,
and no Lisa writes hope into my story.
I hope I was Mary Angie sometime
so I can express my love and passion
without being judged or shut down.
I wish I had Lisa as a family,
a person who supports and encourages me,
but for I am not Mary Angie
nor have Lisa on my side,
so I will shut my hopes
since hope only fuels the hunger of a fool
a fool who dreams too big and alive.
Oh dear Mary Angie,
for I am not like you,
a person who dreams and loves…
for I am taught to follow my parents’ dreams
since I can’t dream for myself,
nor truly live or love.
So dear Lisa, I will stop here,
Because I am tired of living in pain and lies…
for I am not Mary Angie,
nor have you on my side.
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