“Our Kind of Damage”
by Genna Mazza
Is it the fear of being alone,
or the fear that without you I’m just another clone?
A slave to society’s expectations of me—
single and maybe not ready to mingle,
but I want you. How is that wrong?
How can these feelings I feel
be unlike my favorite song?
Damaged— is that our word?
Our connection driving us both to be emotionally famished.
Are we hurting or harming?
Stop—don’t think like that,
he might be your prince charming.
Did Cinderella think the prince would leave?
Maybe that slipper act was something he had up his sleeve.
So afraid to lose something I gained so fast—
is the damage going to hurt me,
that damage from the past?
Can we make this work, can we be all better,
or will I cry harder and just make my pillow wetter?
