Now
I’m so hungry
or nostalgic.
maybe both;
this incessant
craving of what’s past,
the hole in my stomach
that I cannot fill gnawing
at me as if the only
suitable nourishment
is my skin,
my veins,
my weighted memories
of neglect and
brokenness.
I miss things I should
not miss.
I miss the empty
longing for people
who will not listen,
but I do not miss you.
I miss dancing
alone in my room
and crying in the dark,
but I do not miss myself.
There is no greater
satisfaction for me than
knowing that I have
overcome the evils
presented to me
at childhood and that
I have already become
infinitely more colossal
than anyone ever
believed I was
destined to be.
So do not try to beat
me down
because I am
already much
higher than I ever
even thought possible
and I can see the world
for what
it is
and I am never
coming
down.
Copyright © Ema Kenyon | Year Posted 2017
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