Will you be my recycling bin?
I got lot's of unfinished ideas, worthless rhymes and an old, torn curtain I just can't seem to rid myself of. I got lot's of thoughts I'm just not ready to give away because maybe one day, they'll mean something.
What about these memories that I have but you're not apart of any of them? I'm struggling to not trash them. I'm trying to make a clean slate but I'm a hoarder. I hoard useless feelings and meaningless moments because I like to keep things, I don't like to forget. Sadly that's how I measure my worth but...
Will you be my recycling bin?
YOU ARE READING
For The Nameless And Faceless
PoesíaJust a journal of poems I've written both old and new. Share if you'd like. I'm just getting things off my brain.
