The owies that I have cannot be kissed away
I didn’t ask for this
I didn’t ask to be here
I didn’t request to be kept
I would’ve been fine to be flushed away or left in a Petrie dish somewhere
But Alas, I was brought home
Given a chance— that’s all
A chance to grow
A chance to learn
A chance to love
Death is still amiss, however
Never taught anything
I learned the art of silent tears
I learned the art of not mattering
I learned the art of invisibility
I learned the art of being mute
I learned how to be perfectly misunderstood
Gates said it best with his perfect imperfection
“No one understands me and everybody can’t be slow”
This existence has gone stale
Ready for Reset
About the Creator
Moni Staxx
I write through my emotions. Each poem is an excerpt from the moment in time I’m existing in at the time of writing.
My short stories reflect past observances, insights, and imaginative reflections on situations.



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