Drafted

By: Sasha Baldwin

right now, I am a rough draft.

I am left here to be

looked back on and revised

hard as I may try,

I'm not the girl poets speak of.

not made up of the ocean tides, no,

my rib cage does not speak to my lungs

and my heart is not a crystal drum;

it will always be a weapon

more than anything

I am an incomplete masterpiece,

full of crossed out words and changes.

no one ever calls a draft beautiful.

why can't I be the final piece?