I like how I cant tell when I'm lying sometimes.
I like how I'm trying to pick up peices other people leave behind, forgetting to pick up my own.
I like how I'm my own puzzle I gave up on so I started looking at other people's.
I like how I think to much yet never seem to think enough.
I hate how I never think of myself as enough.
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Fuck You, Nicely
PoetryOne finding themselves, ups and downs; streams of melancholy and yearning of the heart. Contains time stamps of a life that seem to fade too fast and rants through life lessons I often forget. There might be some triggers with eating and just mental...
