Emily

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic


Emily drove herself there, or,
Perhaps her other selves did.
But she was driven, taken,
Attached to anothers whimsy.
I never knew that I could,
Exist outside of myself.
But here I am, existing in her.
Does she see in me what I see?
Can she still own perspective?
Or does she see what I do?
Surely she must hate me,
And so she hates herself,
Don't you think?

I asked her what opinions she owned,
She replied by asking me what I believe,
So I asked her what opinions were,
She said opinions are subjective facts,
And then she stopped-
She stopped to ask me what facts were. 


Submitted: November 09, 2020

© Copyright 2020 Flambe. All rights reserved.

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