She

She surrounds herself with toxic stags and material loves

As if this existence, her essence

Is validated through constant reassurance of her worth.

She would rather fake affection be perpetual

Than genuine connections be fleeting

So there is no time to lose herself in the maze of her mind.

She seeks labels to prove her humanity

To prove that she is real

To prove that she deserves to be loved.

But then she stops.

She turns and looks at me.

‘Change,' she demands

'Be more like me,' she demands

But does she not realise?

The last time I altered my soul for the sake of another

It still wasn’t enough.