Could this even be labeled as poetry?
The inside of my head is screaming
So here we speak ever so fluently, a little broken because my eyes are defective
Body perspective, is to happens to be the same
Painful painful, lonely games.
It is hard to speak with rivers creating waterfalls
Blurred lines of letters, I'm not drunk I swear.
I am just swerving through these lines of paint
Give me a canvas to portray my hate
That was false.
Unfinished as always