I haven't written in a while and my poems only seem to feel forced
unless I'm in a general state of desolate despair
Creativity is a coping mechanism for those disillusioned by the reality
intimacy in its singularly most beautiful form is to be understood
what the ******* point is?
It's 3 am and I feel like ****
what else is ******* new?
my sadness is disfiguring
that **** ain't poetry
One could say that pensively staring out of the window sill is poetic I think it’s wallowing...
I'm not going to get myself into recovery by self-isolating,
Makes me wonder if I even want to recover,
Think it makes me cool being this sick,
It gives me reasons to be such a ****.