Even Pinocchio
a puppet made of wood
had someone who believed in him
before he ever proved himself.

Someone who wanted him to be real.
Someone who longed for his joy
who risked everything to find him when he got lost.

I never had a Geppetto.
Not anyone who looked at me
Not one who said I already matter.
Not one who said I choose you
Not one who said I believe you

Instead everyone doubted me
Dismissed me
Used me when convenient
Sent me away when it suited them
Gaslit me, then pretended I was the broken one
and made everyone else believe it too.

They couldn’t be my Geppetto
because they never saw me as real.

I was swallowed by the whale.
Long before anyone knew.
And was replaced convincingly
With a hollow shell they keep alive in the room.