Its 1.40 in the mor-
ning
Blue light adorns
me
There goes my schedule
Fried pixels on lashes
Letters of a dead
Name
Remove all the old
Shame
Letters of a dead
Blame
Remove all the old shame
It's just a phase, it's not a leash
You'll get tired eventually
There's only so much you can take
And you'll find your neck littered with sins
Digitally
YOU ARE READING
Poems I made
PoetryThe poems I make up both in the bathroom and during school/study time (oh god the first few are the worst)[This is mostly for me to keep track of my poetry progress and how many poems I've made]
