Fickle minds, truths lost.
Floating to and from the shore,
Fragmented pieces.
YOU ARE READING
her gloom
Poesía"I am you, one day out of five, Tired, empty, hating what I carry But afraid to lay it down, stingy, Angry, doing violence to others By the sheer freight of my gloom, Halfway home, wanting to stop, to quit But keeping going mostly out of spite...
