All I ask for

This nose, this skin, this globe, 

this sand, this mirrored maze of my mind

I didn't ask for you, for mothers, grandfathers, 

for teachers, for bosses who betray, 

for friends who do not stay.

Did I ask for rain, for the sun, the moon, 

or the way my palm points upwards 

when I rest my arms;

And downwards when you lie next to me,

especially when you aren't with me?

Who asked for butterflies, flowers, truth and lies,

who asked for holy grails, coffees and walks?

All I asked for is that I wasn't made to be me

But that was too much to ask 

Was it?