i've never been good with expressing my words. it's like i wanted to say one but i always end up meaning another. i vomit. i wonder. i vomit. i wonder.
i've never been good with managing my words. they swallow me whole. you've managed to catch bits and then shred them to pieces, giving content to my meaningless dictionary.
have i found m e a n i n g in you? or have you brought ink, spilling them on my pages? or have you found definitions in me?
i have this thirst that never gets satisfied. i have to lay bare, give all i've got then ask why do i get to sleep and wake up, empty.
12/15
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