the beads rolled around
and around
and around.
the string that held it together
fell to the ground.
but it made me feel like a clown.
and you hate clowns.
now i am trapped here
with me.
and
i
don't
want
you
to
leave
me
with
me.
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YOU ARE READING
where is reality?
Poetrys o m e t i m e s t h i n g s d o n t f e e l R E A L, e v e n t h e t h i n g s t h a t m a k e u s f e e l m o s t A L I V E
