poetry.
right?
no rules?
right?
just soul?
right?
am I ******* right?

What the hell happened?
I find myself, in a time of complete mayhem
and I just want to write
My beautiful words, thoughts, and emotions
now under duress

"punctuation"
" I don't get it"
I don't write for you.
I write for me.

what the holy hell is poetry if it's not undefined.
the only thing in this quintessential world, that is undefined.

the only ******* thing I have
and you want to micromanage it.
just like you micromanaged everything into the ground.
well, bite me society.
not on my watch, not even on my time zone.