Sabine of the Galaxy

Latvia

Writer: a form of magician that turns words into worlds.
Often can be found seeking solace in libraries (see magical institutes)

Message to Readers

I'm not much of a poet, so I'd love any feedback.

Still Have No Name

September 17, 2019

FREE WRITING

4
Last year you came,
shining like that nickel my uncle gave me.
You could have had anyone,
but you sat down by me.
Stupid old me,
who couldn’t be cool to save my life.
You would let me under your umbrella,
that shielded us from
hate,
tragedy,
despair.
I’d never had a name,
but you gave me one:
“friend”
you called me,
smiling.
I trusted you,
to be there when I needed you,
to give me a name,
a purpose.
And you were there,
but not really.
You’d hide in your raincoat,
pull up the hood.
I’d get wet,
despair,
you wouldn’t care.
The you left for good,
left me alone.
To cope,
without you.
No on eot call me,
“friend”.
You left me,
nameless.
Guess what?
I still have no name.
But at least I don’t
cry over you,
when the nights are cold.
I don’t long for you,
when it rains hard.
I had a name, but you took it
away.
And hid behind your perfect image,
until there was nothing left.
But I didn’t need a name,
to be happy.
I moved on,
let you go.
I was proud of the
cool,
happy,
independent
me
that I’d become.
I no longer needed your umbrella.
I had my own.

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