Not to Be
It's never to become for I am not the one
It seems that I still have a tear to shed
I am not the one and I doubt that I can ever be that for anyone. It was not how I was made since there are things I don't believe in. I can't say that I'll die without you or promise time that I can't feel. Still the love I have to offer is real and probably more powerful than what exists here but it comes with no games, no dark. Humanity was not made to accept love without chaos. They love the ones that would harm them, make them fight, and make them bleed. This is the elusive spark they look for. They were not designed to accept peace or someone like me. I am a choice. They feed on drama. So I am left to be a lesson to be learned in hindsight. Always the one that got away. The one left alone because I deserve better. Always the one that someone says they would have chosen had they met me first. Always the same stories from the masses save for two. Even with those, everything that begins must end. And so I drift and wander comfortably in the dark and I fight the things within me that insist on what they want for so few can truly see me for the rag doll that I am. All my pieces sewn together and my fully threaded grin. Doesn't matter if I'm broken since I come together well. Doesn't matter what's within me if it always goes unseen. It is too much to expect any human to accept me for my light and for my dark or to reach into my depths to touch the queen within me whose equal parts life and death. Only those that feel my words can picture the beautiful monster that is me, trapped in a world not designed for me. Still, even they could not sit beside me in the darkness and find peace. So I drift about this planet happy and alive, carrying always with me the death that lives inside. I find joy and satisfaction everywhere I go tho temporary and often fleeting. I am even touched by others souls. Reminded everyday of the purpose of my life to let people flow right by me and not keep them by my side. After all we know that there is work to be done and I cannot heed my calling if I tied myself to one. No matter what imagined stories of life long companions I invent, it would seem that they exists in books not meant for me. Tho my heart no longer breaks, it would seem that it still aches and I find that I still have some tears to shed.
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