why must i mourn what isn't there?
creating shadows in my mind
made up of ghosts that aren't real.
my thoughts, perfectly clear
my lips sing nothing but puzzles.
constantly solving a mess i have written
insecurity leaks from my bones
its faucets dripping from the depths of my past.
i will stop at nothing to prove myself wrong
the figure in the mirror ever shifts in front of me
i am indiscernible ..
disfigured but whole
only my words make me.
i think to myself
and think to myself
and think to myself
don't ruin this
YOU ARE READING
the inevitable
Poetryunderestimate, unfold, understand. the third installment from words better left unspoken
