149 poems later, one can still trace you in my poems
I wrote you carefully in metaphors and words that scream
In the anagram that holds your lovely name
149 poems later I’m still stuck in this hedge maze life
I try to cut my wrist and let my tears speak the unspoken
I’ll try to cut the ones who surround me and be a new version
149 poems later, my feelings remain unspoken
For the most part, they’ll forever haunt my existence
Even if I bleed them out on paper
149 poems later, I wish to be left alone
i'm afraid to walk into the future
I'm taking my leave here, soon I'll be 20