I'm talking to myself and I hope I'm listening, I'm juggling the inside and outside heavy, I'm keeping it from falling apart, I'm holding it together just by a strand, One day it will rip of from my palm, together with a tear or two but now, let me just jot them in the scrapbook
A Story in 5 parts, A collection of poems from a fragmented personality.🤺
In times of solitude and despair I tend to drift away into a gloomy state, just thinking about how if, I could pen down these thoughts into words and document them for the purpose of reference and comfort. Dive in and have a field day about how vague but enticing my mind is and how much I can hide from the whole world...