it's slowly driving me insane.
i can't handle it anymore.
all these words are worth a million to me,
and pocket change to you.
these words i write are all i have to live for but are useless to you.
it's these words that are spilled onto paper that drive me insane, keeping everything inside because i don't know how to say them.
YOU ARE READING
•it seems okay•
PoetryYou know those thoughts you have at 3am and your mind is just everywhere?
