If I were to publish
I would even be selfish
Just nervous
Have you thought about what life would be like?
I have, I get likes and hate
Not any different now, but then everyone I once knew would reach out as if I were to owe them a favor
Hard for me to tell them later
I'd need someone to be ride for me
Even then that'd be sketchy
If I were to publish my writing to a book
Who'd honestly give it a look?
It's not a competition of who had it the worse
We're all living to make it work
If I were to I'd hope to seek everyone's worth
Especially on the true reviews
Not about the fame
Nor me as a popular name
Just hoping those who read
Trying to succeed
Especially mentally
Because **** reality
If I were to it'd have to be in my perfection
Just my true way of affection