Yours Truly
by Daniel James 

There is nothing quite as satisfying
As witnessing the end of a clique
A loud, ever-present band of satisfied individuals
Each one performing to fill the empty spaces.
Like a puzzle.
I was a foreign piece,
trying to push my way into an empty space
They were queer.
My edges were jagged.

Rejection was never more clear.
All 73 pieces refused me.
I watched from the sidelines
Bent edges from my attempts at acceptance
They don’t even know my name.

Grateful I never had to carry the weight.
Rejection is much lighter.
I’m not sure who I am without my empty spaces
the significance of my existence is not your validation.
I don’t need to numb pain
I feel everything.

But the clique is falling apart now.
They’re once again individuals
Ghosts,
Pale,
Lonely,
their faces are diminished
searching for acceptance
with those they once rejected.
The Ink. Is dry.

Yours Truly,
Regret