It’s not a need, It’s a want.
Something that begins to taunt.
I face it each and everyday.
And as i sit here and lay,
I think of how it would help,
With the shitty hand I’ve been dealt.
I love you.
But exactly who?
Right now anybody will do.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryHey, this Is a collection of poetry I've been writing since 2010. I promise it's better toward the end, being that's my more recent stuff. So feel welcome to skip forward, read it backwards or whatever you'd like:)
