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Unsure
So my brain is a constant flurry of worry at the moment.
It truly is a mess.
Like scattered papers on my desk.
They're written in my handwriting but I've forgotten the language.
Each letter is like it's written from a different person.
One day she's content, the next she's unsure.
Mainly I'm worried about love.
Immature as it may seem I'm doubting its existence.
Not in the world, just in me.
I seem to be back where I was 2 years ago,
Before you.
Before you I was doubting I could love someone, anyone.
I felt an invisible barrier between my friends and family.
But then you came and loved me so fiercely,
That you convinced me that I could love you back.
And for one shining moment I truly believe I did.
But then the moment end.
YOU ARE READING
A collection of thoughts
PoetryPoetry written by a 21 year old. Each chapter a new poem, probably unrelating to the previous. They are in chronological order of writing them though, which is interesting if you reading them all together. #12 Poetry #56 Self Realisation
