I don't know who I am
Maybe I'll find them in the palm trees of Mexico
Or the towers of New York
For now I shall venture
Till my heart calls loud enough to hear
I'll be listening
YOU ARE READING
Fuck You, Nicely
PoetryOne finding themselves, ups and downs; streams of melancholy and yearning of the heart. Contains time stamps of a life that seem to fade too fast and rants through life lessons I often forget. There might be some triggers with eating and just mental...
