I know I'm a fool
To desire a place in your mind
I'm just another trophy
In your shelf of accomplishments
Just another cherry in your jar
Just another unremarkable phase
In your long list of faces
I've never been worthy
Of anyone's mercy
Not even my own
I know I'm a fool
To think I would run across your mind
I'm just another night
Just another star to stare at
Just another flower for you to pick
And throw away when it withers
Before your skin gets pricked by my thorns
For pain will always be a sincerity
You never want to confront
A name for your tongue to forget
A face for your mind to erase
An existence for your convenience to bequeath
I don't want to be a trophy
But that's what I'll always be
Shiny and gold at first glance
But rusting and corroding with time
And you'll always be the collector
Staring at me from your forgotten shelf
Nothing but a piece of vague memory
Of another goal you finished
Another egg you cracked
YOU ARE READING
Black isn't a Color ➵ poems
Poetry❝ Black isn't a Color, rather, the inability of light to reflect off. ❞ A collection of poems from the confused soul of an antisocial adolescent, who doesn't know where they belong, and where they don't.
