Adopt me into your home and allow me to grow into who I was meant to be. Adopt me, but don’t “take me” so that you can change me. Altering me into the very image you see, the image you wish me to be. That is not me and that is not adoption. That is creation. I have been created already just not wanted. Do not mistake your adoption of me as permission of ownership. You do not own me. I am neither owned nor apparently wanted. But I am here. Alive and waiting for someone to finally care. Someone to finally want me for me and not for what I could be. Adopt me into your life and allow me to add you to my own. Adopt me truly and I will adopt you back.
Label me with your words. Your hate. Your scorn that is forever there. You throw it in my face and laughingly stick it on my back. Jokes to you making me a joke to society. Label me till I become a label. Till I am what you have made me.
You sit upon a mountain. Or is it really a hill. A place for you to find solace away from those that would break your peace. And so you let your hair hang low to hide your face from those around. From those above as well.
Weep for me willow mine. We weep together, we do not cry. Crying is for the shallow feelings, instead we pour forth emotion from our eyes. Dying moments trickling down other moments. Each racing towards its end. We sway, you and I, against the current of humanity. We sway, willow mine, as we lean against the wind. Allowing the breeze to dry our tears. Allowing each other to ease our fears. You will always be my willow mine.