Theft

 Found the simple secret--  
     Form to be disposed.  
 We outgrew the fundamental  
     grew into foreign clothes.  


 Sped past implication  
    Asked our father for a name  
 And pinned it as an answer  
    to why we weren't the same.  


 Saw our limbs to be disjointed  
    Each carried a different weight  
 Some gripped firewood and axes    
    some slipped light past the Gate.  


 Lost the newborn instict  
    Grew opposed to letting go  
 The Dark began to beckon--  
    “You were never meant to know.”  

1. https://old.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/944pwt/seventeen/
2. https://old.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9456p7/commitment/