DJ

I guess I liked
fictitious you.
Well,
I know I did.
I loved you even.
My college essay,
the work that got me
accepted to college
was about you.
Gah, not you, the 
character 
you played. 

I wanted to be you
and wear your clothes.
I'd have given 
anything
to be your friend 
or sister.
Couldn't I 
have been the
best friend
who lived next door
on the other side of your
grey mansion
with the gorgeous, bright
red door?

I would've been the very
best guest and confidant,
anything.
Your whole world was
everything 
mine was not. 
I wanted your kind father who 
never yelled.
The uncles who were
happy
in having
their worlds
revolve around you.

You had all the answers 
and were the 
perfect
daughter, student, sister, friend,
role model.
You had
everything 
and more.

Seeing you,
actual you,
is disappointing. 
Not for the reasons 
people would think.

What I can never forgive 
and never get over,
what I have lost
in you,
is how you were 
the very best 
girl, woman, female
but now
you happily
turn your back
on all of us,
femme or otherwise.

It seems
in silly and or
appropriate 
retrospect
that it was 
the middle
where I should have
displaced all
My reverence. 








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