I don't want the world to crash down.
I don't want the use of the same words
over & over again, with a single thought.
Ran out of medicine, ran out of creativity.
Ran out of all the things you did for me.
Let me bruise up and learn my lesson.
Don't tell me what to do
unless you tell me how.
Monotone, all these words.
And so is this body I've seen before.
YOU ARE READING
Self Taught Reality | a poetry book
PoetryPoetry books aren't that popular here but that should change, so I'm giving it a go. Writing is all I do besides school so poems are the only way I've found works to pour all the painfully abstract thoughts out of my head. I hope someone out there...
