“Respectable”
since you wanted me,
I ask myself—
to what point
did I become more respectable?
was it the mirror of your eyes,
the sudden weight of your touch,
the way my name sounded
different in your mouth?
or was it only illusion,
a costume stitched
from your desire,
a mask I wore
because you believed in it?
respectability—
a fragile crown,
bestowed, withdrawn,
never entirely mine.
and yet,
in that moment,
I stood taller,
as if your wanting
had remade me.
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline)
- Published: October 19th, 2025 04:51
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Comments1
What a great topic Cryptic. I always viewed respectability as a zero sum game where no matter what you do you are only as good as the last thing you do and furthermore any bad perceived takes away something that can never be retrieved for the viewer never forgets and never forgives. Time becomes the enemy of the respected. With time the uncovering of past acts rusts the image of even the most respected for we are all human and error. Loved it and the provocation of thought that it inspired.
Thatโs such a beautiful and powerful exposition dear Soren. Those that believe in us no matter what make us respectable. Perhaps, our very selves included ๐๐ป๐๏ธ
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.