We have never developed what one would consider to be

an ‘ideal’ relationship,
The deceit you allowed to me to fall into
in the seventh grade
when I looked in the mirror and hated you
But you allowed me to mistake you for
me.

You opened new horizons of
melancholia
because people get to meet you before me
and they do not judge me for my soul,
first they stop to judge you for your rolls and wrinkles and
every exceeding ounce of
imperfection you inhabit.

You inspired me to change you:
to do everything in my power,
to devote every ounce of semi-vibrant,
ill-intentioned passion to alter you
but in the end
I was
the only one
who
changed.