blame game.
written somewhere in illinois, kentucky, or tennessee on the road to georgia.
july 2, 2017.
8:56 am.
the sky dyes the earth and air pink -
sunset's call to any living thing.
you spend your days inside,
wishing to be high -
but the road has its own kind of thing.
dependency's a curse,
but then again,
so is independence.
slave to other man, time, and material things;
but the earth itself is not a wretched thing.
YOU ARE READING
poetry iv: thot confessions
Poetrywritten in 2017. the end of an era and the beginning of a new one. trynna be some rupi kaur shit but that ain't me. confessions of a self-proclaimed thot.
