We are meant to be accepted.
You’d think no one prefers their food burnt.
But I’d intentionally choose the darkest fritter on the plate.
I savor the bitterness when my food is a little scorched.
And I have a fondness for short guys.
Because my neck doesn’t go sore when I come home;
as his gaze is straight, lining mine.
Then again, my friend likes their egg with a runny yolk.
And another friend fawns over the man who helped her reach the top.
So you know there is always someone to accept.
However you are shaped, whatever you were forged from.
There is someone who will accept you.
If not me, then others.
Accept that you are meant to be accepted.
Pojok Sastra adalah kolom terbuka untuk tulisan jenis puisi, resensi, cerita pendek, dan opini. Dikurasi langsung oleh redaksi Economica.id.
