there's something wrong with my body
i can't seem to find myself
outside of it
they must have built me wrong
what am i supposed to do with this?
something went wrong
somewhere along the way
i've lost myself
but
there's nothing wrong with me
is it really normal?
rip my skin apart
climb out of the paper thin prison
rearrange myself
they picked the wrong atoms
when they put me together
YOU ARE READING
metanoia
PoetryM E T A N O I A (n.) : the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life this is my first poetry book, and because this book is not completed yet they are very unorganized. when i'm finished the book will be rearranged. all poetry is...
