may the ones i leave behind
never lie in their journals,
in their conversations, or to themselves
and call me “too good for this world,”
when the world and i have always been two of a kind.
let it be known that not all unsuitable things
are too perfect or too light to be ill-matched
for the place you were born into;
some of us are heavy,
some of us are undoubtedly flawed.
no, we were never ethereal,
we were mere mortals straining to be.