FakeExistence

my heart belongs to men whose bodies have long been cold beneath the earth, who took their last breath many a century ago. i find myself, when i am alone late at night without another soul around, praying to a king i never knew. i wish for his guidance, his approval, his praise. when i whisper his name, it tastes like blood and iron and paternal. my kingly father is warm, stern, reflective, everything i had hoped my flesh and blood father could've been. i find long lost lovers in the pages of biographies. they reach out to me - calling my name, grabbing hold of my clothes to drag me down to them in between the pages. each one of them

my heart belongs to men whose bodies have long been cold beneath the earth, who took their last breath many a century ago. i find myself, when i am alone late at night without another soul around, praying to a king i never knew. i wish for his guidance, his approval, his praise. when i whisper his name, it tastes like blood and iron and paternal. my kingly father is warm, stern, reflective, everything i had hoped my flesh and blood father could've been. i find long lost lovers in the pages of biographies. they reach out to me - calling my name, grabbing hold of my clothes to drag me down to them in between the pages. each one of them