not capable of finishing anything

take my last poem.

about an angsty girl supposed to

be a young functioning adult now

and isnt capable of having dreams.

this was about me yet

yet i still couldnt add in the bits

about where i really chose

my first kiss to be with someone i didnt

even moderately enjoy as a person

(though he was good physically)

so love had nowhere

to go but up.

or how whenever the young girl partakes in

drinking with strangers for once in her ******* life

she can lock herself in the closet

smile

and feel absolutely nothing