Ain't that a trip?
That we can
Hate
With so much
Passion.
That it is confused with
Love.
That we can
Forget.
Who we are and want to
Be.
But fuck.
I think that I'm done here.
I've fucked myself up
So many times.
That I'm not sure who I am.
YOU ARE READING
Emotions.
PoetryPoems that I just kind of put together, I update slowly, I just kind of randomly publish all the ones I save up.
