I Am Not A Human Being

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 07, 2018

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Submitted: August 07, 2018

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I’m different

than I thought I’d turn out.

I bare scars

from people who had razors for tongues and acid coating their finger-tips.

I was born and raised on a steady diet of 

lies and deceit 

to keep me from finding the skeletons hiding in my childhood

closet.

I was taught to lay down 

naked and exposed

because someone had to feed the vultures. 

Now the memories, like ghosts, haunt my mind.

I see them in the edges of my

vision in the corners of my eyes. 

I have become warped 

a funhouse image of what I’m suppose to be.

My heart has been

Twisted and 

wrung 

and hung 

out to dry.

I am not a human being.

I am the rain that falls cracks through the of the subway grates.

I am the freshly made pastries 

bakeries throw out at the end of each day. 

The dust

caught in the cracks of the floor your broom will alway miss. 

The flowers

that lay withered and forgotten on the table, dead of thirst. 

I am not who I was hoping I’d be. 

I’m 

stranger and

crazier and

braver and 

oh

I’ve been broken

in so many places that my body is starting to resemble a new shape.

 


© Copyright 2018 t. a. prentiss. All rights reserved.

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