Sometimes I just need to write without a delete key
infest everyone's min d with the unedted versions of my soul
the cracks and brooses the widdled down soul of a man
denstined to be mistaken, destined to fall apart
an exhausted wretch the world never seems to want
but always seems to make a whole lor t of  
seeing tyhe red lines underneath gives my heart palpitations
my obsessive compulsive self crumbles
but I know it ia for the best, mistakes are apart of life
and they are are apart of myseldf in the best of ways
because i am a accumilation of mty mistakes
for wich there are plenty of and I regret none of
except mayvbe a few, but there is no delte button in the real world
nothing to hide the mistakes, to reconcile the scars
there is no delete button in the reality of life and there is nothing
Ican do about it, but love each mistake as  I love myself.