Dear Copy. @ZSlatter

jessica gough jessicagough | November 27, 2017

Posted in Blog, Front, Keep

By  Zoe Slatter

People seem to ask,
Are you more copy, or are you art? So I wanted to write you something, To set our sides apart.

I can’t spell for shit,
As I’ve told you once before, So why did you still try? Persisting more and more.

We’ve been together some time, For 22 years or so,
Our silvers’ coming up,
And I fear that you’ll let go.

I’ve treated you like dirt, Straight out from the start, Sometimes you were neglected, So why did we not part?

I’ve said some shitty stuff,
Then we fought and fought and fought, You underlined my insults,
From here you had me caught.

Every day I was confused,
Trying to unravel you,
Until I thought I had you flattened, then you brought up something new.

People told me, leave,
they told me, fucking stop, Trying and trying for you, that’s when dyslexic me forgot.

To stand up for myself,
And make them all think, wow,
But that didn’t really happen,
Else, of course, you’d be here now.

All we did was hate,
You confused me to the core,
I detested you so much,
But you enjoyed it more and more.

What were you fucking thinking, Would I solve you like a sum? You gave me no fucking clues, You told me I was dumb.

Other people agreed,
they fully supported you,
What were you fucking thinking, what was I suppose to do?

You gave me no real choice, One word that was – No. You said, don’t try and stay, you shoved me and said go.

How do you think that made me feel? Happy to move on?
At that time it did I guess,
But that’s where I went wrong.

You didn’t fight for me, And I didn’t fight for you, But frankly at that point, Did you really want me to?

That’s why I’m writing to you now, You can have me back again,
I’ll treat so much better,
I’ll treat you like a friend.

There will always be someone better, who can work you to the T,
They can paint you as a picture,
but that painter won’t be me.

I was once told, ‘you’re dyslexic’, As I had errors everywhere,
This undermined me once,
But now, I don’t really care.

I’m not a true dyslexic,
As I never took that test, But I class my self as one, As I’ll never be the best.

The natural best that is,
The one with all that flare,
With a brain who understands you, But at least I really care.