Panic's rising like a hot flood creeping on my back. Fear has become the norm
(I don't cry)
Nothings fun anymore. Expectations are to Hugh and everything's just to hard.
(I can't cry)
Who knew humans could feel so empty.
(I why can't I just cry)
YOU ARE READING
Aesthetics
PoesíaI felt it was time for a new beginning, so I've restarted my collection of poems. Feedback is encouraged.
