Apr 2021
I'll let go of this pencil
that continues to draw this
head filled with imagination
"behead me,"
and bring the endless ache of being
an insufficient being;
in this ideal world
'filled with feelings, pens & paint,'
that continues to draw this
head filled with imagination
"behead me,"
and bring the endless ache of being
an insufficient being;
in this ideal world
'filled with feelings, pens & paint,'
it irks me that I make no sense
I hate that I'm not perfect like her.
I hate that I'm not perfect like her.
