"Why do you always look so sad?"
//My fingertips and cold as ice yet my insides are a bonfire//
My thoughts are whirling
I've never been so alone
but it's crowded in this tiny room
chiming of ring tones and notifications
disturb my concentration.
475 true or false questions
about whether or not I love my family
is suppose to give me a diagnosis.
"We'll get you fixed."
But I never came with any spare parts
and not even oil can could rid of my rusted hinges.
All I need is someone
someone who will be my love
someone who will burn their money
someone who will save my bitter soul
//have you ever seen or heard things other people could not?//
YOU ARE READING
Requins
PoetrySome words thrown together, forming something along the lines of poetry.