a funny game i wanted to play with me

writing poem within mouth holding
a seed of blackberry.

the fruit was fleshy sweet
till tongue exposed its bone
staled, made it insipid,
as if, was never grown.

spit it out i could not do
that seed utterly dry
for i had given word to you
a poem to write must try.

as i thought up cutish rhyme
that must pleasure fetch
****** grew the seed with time
my mouth was messy wretch.

my tongue was thick of blue
too intense was my plight
but i had given word to you
must hold till end of write.

it's over now this awkward game
what a relief to throw it out
and never again shall i write a poem
with a blackberry seed in mouth.

(sorry guys this isn't gonna be good I just have nowhere to vent so)




you deserve love and you deserve to understand how caring and humble you are.
you stick to your morals.
you stick to your gut.
you don't know how amazing
and I'm not the right person to tell you.
i wish you the best
and i feel like you are unreachable
but i dont know how to reach you
i can't tell you anything about yourself
only because im not the right person.
bottom line is:
i will stick around only if you want me to. but how do I know if you want me to. I don't know whether to give you space or comfort you.
I think we need to talk. but I know it doesn't help. I want to do what is best for you. I can't. I struggle with doing what's best for me.