Savant

Being me. Trying to build myself out of scraps of scraps. When you can see through that barrier between us. And you think you can see enough that there’s no danger around. Holes, tears, and me. The savant you wanted is just a bunch of scattered notions. If I were a savant, I would invent new stuff. And hope. And maybe we wouldn’t have such long lines at the banks. Because I could create solutions that are worthy. If I were a savant, I would paint, do math, and be happy. I would make them all happy. But instead I’ll just continue to be part of the scrap yard. Layers of plastic covered with rusty metal shards. When the savants come to town. It’s as if they eat all our favorite food, and breathe all our favorite air. But we forget: They are disabled too. It hurts. The rusty metal scraps that will last forever no matter how rusty they get. If I were a savant, I wouldn’t even invent new things… I would just make sure there were enough pieces for everyone. If I were a savant… That’s why I’m not one.