All the hate I spit
It's so annoying how you have a clue
It's really a bunch of shit,
I wonder if maybe you see through me.
Every time I see you my mind throws a fit
Because you don't see the true me
You cant see through me.
YOU ARE READING
Sleepless Night
PoetryA number of random pieces that I've written at random times all tied together with a similar theme, sickness, sadness, and sleeplessness.
