As innocent as a child's laughter, as beautiful as the lie that is buried deep beneath the world everyone calls home.
The strings pulled me like a marionette, but the voice inside the one rotting beneath my porcelain skin was never mine to begin with.
Just stolen breath.
A body that was never meant to be mine.
The shell that selfishly became the soul.
The strings that guide my trembling sway, I'm too weak to handle any of it on my own.
If I only I could just fall asleep forever
And finally let this corpse rest in peace.
In another universe where I wasn't so useless.
YOU ARE READING
The Borrowed Life of Another
Poetry"I was carved to be beautiful, stitched to be gentle... yet every graceful step was borrowed from a girl who never got to walk again."
