I've lost my touch with this world. It feels so much easier to be something else. To be, nothing. It would be easier to not exist. To leave my body and its scars and lovers behind.
I just can't think quite right. Or write quite correctly. Or speak thoughts worthy of being heard.
Excuse my mess of a brain.
'*'
YOU ARE READING
Why You
PoetryJust poems. Some poems that I have written and others from the internet. If you would like to send me poems, I will dedicate that page to you. Or if you want to stay anonymous that's fine, too. Poems that I have wrote will have a '*' at the end. Pl...
