Oct 2015
Poetry?
*******.
These are words
in a mess of spilled ink.
Words that spiral out of my head
onto lined paper.
I am not poetic.
I am a mess of unfinished thoughts
and empty words
driven by madness.
*******.
These are words
in a mess of spilled ink.
Words that spiral out of my head
onto lined paper.
I am not poetic.
I am a mess of unfinished thoughts
and empty words
driven by madness.
