I am poetry, dying to be heard.
Inner conflicts ooze summertime sadness and sunshine.
Have you ever been in a situation where you know you are right, but then if that's true, it means that everyone else is wrong? I came to the school being a simple Christian, the one who prays every m...
This poem addresses human existence, were existence actually a thing
Bad times can make us appreciate the good times just that much more.
Cheers to the imperfect.
Cheers to the heartache.
Source: https://comingbacktomortality.wordpress.com/2020/10/02/contradictory-dribble/
This is a mess, yet I don't care. I probably didn't say all I wanted to say, but there's always next time. Try not to take it too seriously, if you do happen to read this. 😃
You're hot, and I'm cold
You rise, I flow down
You're bright, and I'm moled
You kill it, I drown
You go your own way
The world is my bound, but both we would say
I can't go without
Why you can't cut it in the world as an artist—particularly as a writer, in this case.
What am I to do when everything I am is constantly contradicting another part of me, and all you do is criticize every trait?
The enigmatic mind and how I define subjective reality
Inner conflicts ooze summertime sadness and sunshine.
Have you ever been in a situation where you know you are right, but then if that's true, it means that everyone else is wrong? I came to the school being a simple Christian, the one who prays every m...
This poem addresses human existence, were existence actually a thing
Bad times can make us appreciate the good times just that much more.
Cheers to the imperfect.
Cheers to the heartache.
Source: https://comingbacktomortality.wordpress.com/2020/10/02/contradictory-dribble/
This is a mess, yet I don't care. I probably didn't say all I wanted to say, but there's always next time. Try not to take it too seriously, if you do happen to read this. 😃
You're hot, and I'm cold
You rise, I flow down
You're bright, and I'm moled
You kill it, I drown
You go your own way
The world is my bound, but both we would say
I can't go without
Why you can't cut it in the world as an artist—particularly as a writer, in this case.
What am I to do when everything I am is constantly contradicting another part of me, and all you do is criticize every trait?
The enigmatic mind and how I define subjective reality