Taylor

I wish her pointed ear
Could hear what I say;

And her slated eyes,
See into my pain

I wish her voice was of mine
So that she may speak
And I may understand

I wish her mind
Could process what I cry:
My tortures

And her fingers
Of five
So that one might take away my tears

I wish she was of my kind
But she is not

And though I wish it,
I fear if I do
And comes true, my wish
She, like all the others,
Will abandon me back
Into the darkness
That is overtaking me

I wish she could listen
I wish she could see my truth
I wish she could tell me what to do
I wish she knew such answers that I seek
But she cannot and does not

And at the same time,
Yet she cannot understand,
She is the close friend I have now

The only friend I have

And I fear
Soon
She may be the only family
[In a metaphoric sense]
I have left as well.