if i experienced love,
and continued experiencing it
as i grow up,
then i wouldn’t be a poet.
you wouldn’t be reading this book,
because this wouldn’t be written
in the first place.
i guess i should thank the universe
for all the misery that it bestowed
upon me, because if it didn’t pour
the tears of heaven into my jeans’ pockets,
then there would be no reason
for me to use paper to dry
my soaked pants.
YOU ARE READING
Found This Book Somewhere In The Forest
Poetry"Talk to my soul later midnight, when the moon's at its peak. That's the only way of communication that I know, because my physical lips will stutter if I told you about how I want to tear my human skin apart and go out."
