Lowblood

They told me I need chocolates for Valentine’s
Not that I need the lovelife
I need sugar

Villain Instead

I had saved millions
But no, never call me hero
Because it was thoughts I saved
I had let them be miserably safe in the castle
When they should’ve been battle-scarred
In this war ground of words
Fighting for their death
So they could be buried deeply
Into their reader

A Request from Fiction

I want her to change my name and inform her friends. I exist; can’t she see? I am real and forever will be as long as she’s capable of experiencing. I am not a dream. Not a machine. It just hurts to be seen as mere print on a page rather than a mess on a white shirt. I may be dirty but that’s the thing–I’m alive. I have a past. I happen. I am always going to be. So please, change my name.