They say if once a writer loves,

the loved one shall not die;

then let me offer immortality,

and keep you thereby.

He lit his candle against the night

and wrote what none could hear;

he gave his heart to lifeless pages

and called the silence dear.

He sent his words beyond his door,

to hearts he’d never known;

but none returned to tell him

he need not write alone.

Perhaps, he thought, no soul could see

the world he’d come to know;

perhaps the things that filled his heart

were his to bear alone.

And when his hand grew cold at last,

his final page lay still;

the ink dried dark, the candle died,

the night outlived his will.

Yet years beyond his numbered days,

when dust had claimed his name,

a stranger found his book one dusk

and felt an answering flame.

He read, and felt his sorrow rise,

his guarded heart laid bare;

the words he could not speak himself

were waiting for him there.

He wept beside the windowpane

while rain swept through the night;

for someone, long before his birth,

had known his soul outright.

Had I but come when you were here,

I’d have stayed beside your door;

I’d have listened to your every word,

and asked for nothing more.

But earth had closed its patient hand,

and time would not undo;

the reader held the book and mourned

the friend he never knew.

For when a writer loves a thing,

he gives it life unknown;

and though his heart lies still in earth,

it finds another home.

1

2

"It asks no questions and never pretends to understand. It lasts a minute but makes it feel like we've known eachother forever. More honest than years of affection.

They ask me questions I can't answer, expect words I can't find, but the cigarette never asks why I am awake.

Some wounds never become wisdom, they keep bleeding. It brings me no joy, it's kisses only leave an emptiness that demands to be filled again.

Do we kiss out of habit? Or desire? Perhaps I never loved the choking feeling, only something to return to.

There are names I no longer say and conversations I wish I had, but now I carry them like letters folded into my pockets.

I think about the years passing, the opportunities I have lost and the absurdity of making of it all. I hate that I have no answers.

But it never asks why I am lost, it simply comes to find me.

A ritual of meeting every night in the silence to seek intimacy from something that can never love you back.

It does not look at me and it does not judge me, it makes no promises and leaves behind only ash. The kisses fade but never the uncertainty.

Maybe I've come to realise, not everything that touches your lips deserves a place in your heart."

So hello guys this is my first time posting something here. I would like some criticism and if there are some aspects I can improve. I've tried to keep the tone melancholic while speaking about loniless, trying to find solace in the silence and how something can bring you comfort without being good for you. The cigarette symbolizes the things we turn to when we feel lonely and lost, even when we know it can't give us what we truly want.

I'm not much of a writer so I've spent quite a lot of time in this even though it's quite short, so any tips and criticism would be much appreciated.

(https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/8mW1LyvYNB)

(https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/zZp1JOCxqp)

Silky ribbons of skin that are your collarbones pressed into my neck
Infinitely freckled arms wrapped round the curve of round hip
Your hungry mouth biting gently my shoulder
The spine becomes a handle onto which I hold
I can feel your soft-sharp mustache
Your sweat is warm wicking off my lips
Limbs tangling into their places
I feel most free under the surrender of your weight

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/uLCI2zIfP7

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/uJN52zEQFX

Free therapy

I looked up at the knife and I lookee up at my phone

I wanted to see u beg for my life cuz I felt so alone

And u didn't know what to say and I guess that's fair

Im laying in a transitional living bed in my underwear

And I'm thinking "man why did God let me of all people escape im clueless, useless and all I've done is gain weight"

I said it's just not fair to expect me to assimilate when I've been cut down my whole life God I think u made a mistake

So I thought "take me out I'll never get better " and that I shouted and I thought it at Trans Pecos outside of this great punk show and I watched all the people around me

They probably have been through what I have or something

But they look like they've moved on at least they don't think about it everyday

But anyway, I guess I'm just a mistake

And I heard you fake it till you make it

But my deep fake isn't buyable I guess I'm no longer for sale

When I walk through the street of life baby I leave a trail of people who used me and people who tried to help either way they leave me all by myself cuz I can't take love I just through help away

I just told you to fuck off now I'm begging you to stay

Cuz I really don't know what I want

Maybe I wanna be a bad person and not get caught but that would make me just like my mom so I guess I'll be good

I do hurt the people I love most when I know what i should do I wanna hug them and thank them but I push them away

Then. I go to the nearest stranger, and I use them as free therapy

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/okUriy9sKi

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/lrUO52Aii4

So i read a bible verse today that read

"One day with the Lord is as a thousand years, and a thousand years is as one day"

And it had me thinking about the dead

About if the loved ones that passed on have lived a millenia beyond the clay

When we die, do we forget who we were

To ourselves, to each other, to the world in life?

Did our dead and gone forget the world-

They left behind after such a long, long time?

Just one year passed in the "real world" is a time passed

In the afterlife far older than the world itself

If eternity were to last in the real world, would it perhaps

Diminish these instincts that keep us in health?

It seems that to us that felt loss, they've rotten

Yet to them who felt death, they've already won

Instead of the dead being the ones that are forgotten

Are we in truth, the forgotten ones?

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/oJ2WPaun3U

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/OE7QjpR2FX

If I ever loved you

Then I want you to know

That there are bits of you that I drank in

That are now a part of my soul

If I ever loved you

Then I want you to know

There is no expiration or contingency in that

Even if you are departed

Or we went on different paths

And if I ever loved you

And there were tears that fell

I'd now like to thank you

And always wish you well...

For those tears were like diamonds that lit up the way..

On a path I can now revisit ...

Only in a different way.

But if ever i loved you and you are me,

Then, see- there is no separation,

Only unity.

And If ever i loved you

And you ARE me ..

Then I am them,

And they are we...

And we are all eternal

We are infinity

So if ever I miss you

I will look into the mirror and smile

When I see that its you,

You've never left

I will sit with you awhile...

And if ever,

Ever I loved,

Love you

This was a poem I wrote that means alot to me when I was done writing it I happened to glance at the time and it read 11:11

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1x8fy9l/comment/phg9qx1/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1x5p35c/comment/phg8cgy/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Rippling

In the periphery of a shadow
Crease between symmetry line
Plowing head horned curl bowing stead
Tasting air gaze harried non 
Separations pairing daring glaring softly
Attune long lost fairings costs
Succinct brinks of leavening deaths
Accompaniment blurting throaty yell
Dispelling telling quells arrange
Pungent burning human signaled
Degrees fees born stars far
Halos auratic fixtures fixated place
Highlight disgrace crevices crystalled
Gently fit amongst comforts tithers
Breaths light mists aglimmer distant through shaden ways
Receiving an ending beginning
Hollow mourn filling torn feeling unstorne

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/7rHQKZn3Em

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/zyuWhoTDgP

Make haste
The tormenters have come
To peel the flesh from your bones
To dine upon their thrones

We know not
When they arrive to feed
They have already started
We have been outsmarted

They understand
Misery - terror - anguish
All attuned to their policy
Given as an equality

The fog has risen
Centuries before our births
We are shown the way
We are told “obey”

They will let us lie down
Display them our bellies
Our ribcages outlined
And our joints - they grind

They are displaying their loins
-An act without innocence
Cratering our virtue
Brings ease to their purview

Oh, how will we escape these fiends?
“Like an unanswered riddle”
-The ignorant will scream
As the conscious will dream

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/uGVajaL589

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/NTehfMphI6

I can't ever do the right thing.

Because what's right for you is always boring or painfully frustrating for me.

It sickens me, and I have to force myself to do whatever it is that makes you happy or healthy or what you would think is “right”.

Sometimes it's even at my detriment- giving you the last cookie or cup of coffee when I have a caffeine headache or a terrible day.

Sometimes it hurts my health overall, like when I had skin removed under your nails trying to steady you so you wouldn't fall and hurt yourself.

But if I do the right thing for me, it's always worse.

If I take time for me and my friends, and I don't spend my time on you to make you happy or fix your boredom or do what you want to keep your depression at bay, I'm seen as the bad guy.

If I do what I think is right for me, and take a day to recover or have that snack or put my own needs above your own, you punish me with harsh and angry words.

You make assumptions about me which you share to others to badmouth me and make me out to be this horrible person.

If I do what's right for everyone else, or what the world thinks is right, we both suffer.

Giving to the poor, donating to charities, giving my time to the shelters or volunteering gives me less time or money to myself to buy you gifts, or us food.

Giving money to local businesses does mean a little less being used to buy stuff from places like Walmart, that is true, but also means less food bought overall because the local grocer charges at least 25% more for the same products.

What am I to do? Which “right” do I side with?

Choosing me makes me selfish.

Choosing you makes me feel angry or in emotional pain.

Choosing our society hurts us both.

Who do I give my time to, my money, my emotional well-being?

Even when I'm happy, I'm not. Even when I choose a day for me, with all my friends and my lover and give myself chocolates and coffee and lovely music...

I'm still thinking of you and how you still need me while I'm not there for you.

I hate that you've broken me.

I hate that I've broken myself.

I hate that I've allowed myself to fall apart so easily.

I hate my indecision, yet also hate making those same decisions.

It's like I've told you a million times before:

“What's right has been left, and what's left is not right.”

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1x8pnj3/comment/phexrua/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1x8g2ib/comment/pheyx8z/

Foreigner

I am always a foreigner.
The words float off a stranger's tongue:
“Where are you really from?”
Words that slipped away without a thought,
Yet linger for eternity

I was born twenty minutes away,
Yet look five thousand miles removed.
My culture feels like a costume,
Dressed up for a day, unapproved.

Here, I am not one of them.
There, I am not one of them.
My learned accent is jarring,
My birth accent does not blend.

Neither here, nor there.
“You are not one of us.”
Nobody speaks of the longing we carry,
For a belonging we cannot find.

Home is where the heart is, they say.
Where is my heart?
Where is my home?

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1x88lcd/comment/phcyhnv/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1x8fido/comment/phcy0wo/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Time and time again my ears have caught

A man's love can only be suffused through the body

So, my dearest beloved

Let us make love until our limbs fall off

Let my curves straighten up on the bed

Let your twisted fingers align to my spine

And by then, I surely hope the vicar won’t scoff !

/
Any guessing on what the ending entails is welcome ! :)

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/rwdNKQyfJJ

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/kE1ZHJ9DYK

Orange leaves drifting slowly down

Showing their age

the blanket of cold October voices envelops me

The only thing moving my feet forward is the warm husky voice of a lonely man and thinking of ways to spend my wage.

My working hands. climbing hands. young hands attached to an old soul

Tuck tightly into the pocket of my torn coat,  Aluminum energy brushing my callouses

ticking thoughts trampling through my mind.

Do I ever keep my promises?

Fake drive flipping from ambition to ambivalence

Goals or pipe dreams? It makes no difference 

It feels nice to harbour some delusions, to scrape 12 hours of my life away with a sleepy smile and a far off look.

Head bobbing up and down but usually up.

Always up. 

pretending to have a plan in place while tucked away in my little nook, by the oven.

fanning flames burning beneath my feet,

but not the amitious kind.

no, that would be much too kind.

the life is catching up with you and you're running out of time flames.

the become a worse robot than the actual robots because your fancy piece of scrap paper is useless and burnt to a crisp flames.

forget this guy ever existed or even had a name at all flames.

A sleepy autumn delusion swaying in the wind,

Showing it's age

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/GZCUtT9H7J

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/I5F297hQBJ

A couple years ago I looked onto this same water and. Wished it took me away

I was probably wearing one. Of those stupid hippie sskirts I found in a dumpster

I looked like I crawled out of one too, I hadnt been brave enough to shower in weeks

I sat and I texted you and now I sit here alone

A couple years ago ma got mad that morning and powered hot. Coffee on my. Hand.

I told you about. It and you felt bad for me, I think I felt worse

Luckily I walked down here and the cold helped

A couple years ago I sat by the highway and I watched the cars go by like wild birds and I told you how much I love cars

You told me cars are killing the planet and killing society

I called you a negative bitch

I think I get what you mean now but at the time the concept of freedom the concept of convience it all seemed so beautifully foreign to me

I think we both believe in a lot of things though

I think you think but don't act

I think I act but don't think

I think either way our family will never really love us for who we are

A couple years ago I saw a boat at the pier called The Lexington like where you live

Where you build your own cage surrounded by the ability to break free but refusing it to stay in a familiar cycle

I think I get that now I think you make a lot more sense to me now

A couple years ago we complained about money for hours, at least you could buy food. I called u while I collected cans I cried to you about how much my stomach hurt and how jealous I was of eveeyone else

you tried to help but you know damn well how stubborn and independent I used to be.

You said it was crazy that nobody else in our family even could figure what was going on. You said I reminded you of "a little rat girl" because I dug around for scraps of food abandoned in the snowy trash cans.

Now I have more then I could've ever dreamed you abandoned me.

A couple years ago I told you I wanna live on a boat one day so I could go wherever I wanted from coast to coast forever

You told me you could never live anywhere but a city again

But you told me you want me to be happy wherever that is if that was on a boat or in Portland or in Brooklyn where id end up about a week later

I think I'd be happy if you were still here

I thinkhink I'd be happy if you didn't fuck up

I think I'd be happy if we figured our shit out together like we promised

"We're in this together" you'd always say and today I wish you'd say it again

A couple years ago you told me you were taking edibles again and drinking again

You told me I was right you had a problem but you couldn't stop, not this time and that you were sorry

I said I forgave you I said I didn't take it personally and I knew you were trying

A couple years ago I sat by the pier and I cried, I cried and wondered if I didn't mean enough to you for you to quit

A couple years later I know I didn't, I didn't even mean enough to you for you to stick around, for you to protect me, for you to protect me from yourself even

A couple years ago you were the first person in our family I told what she was doing to me,

A couple months before that I think you knew

You were drunk and I told you I felt like ma was doing "emotional incest" you asked if it went farther and I lied that it didn't

But in tears and desperation I broke my silence to you in desperate trust you promised you'd keep it secret. Now I keep what you did secret, cuz we keep secrets for each other don't we?

I don't even talk to any of them anymore but your the one I think about the most all these years later

A couple years ago when she'd try to break my door down you'd text me and talk to me to distract me

You'd ask me about the music I liked and send me songs

We listened to this one sad indie song. It captured how stuck and desperate we both were but the emptiness felt a little less sharp knowing I could cry on your shoulder

You would tell me you knew me my whole life but felt like you just met me after your divorce

A couple years ago we told each other everything. You texted me at work I texted you at school you'd call me drunk id call you high you told me your fantasies, desites and longings even the ones about me

I can't say I didn't like the attention

A couple years ago you broke the rule, you were drunk and lonely and done with everything and you did what you promised you'd never do.

Incest is like world wars, kinda funny it happened twice (from two different people)

I think it's something in the bourbon making our family wanna do this shit

I don't know if you leaving or you starting hurt worse

I don't know if you feel bad, I'm sure you do

I'm not sure how I feel about you

A couple months ago the DR at the facility told me you wanted to talk to me again, you wanted to make ammends, to resolve things.

I was hesitant but I was lonely and I missed you

I thought about it for weeks and weeks asking about you non-stop I was scared but secretly excited kinda like how I was excited but secretly scared when i ranaway to Bushwhick as you rebemember.

You told me I'd be happy once I got there and there wasn't so much suspense anymore and I think I'm happier that I didn't talk to you now that the suspense is over

I don't think your a bad person I dont think your a good one either

I don't think you have ur shit together enough to challenge everything that's been impressed upon you so you drink and you drink and you drink and get high because its the only time you feel real. I think your scared Griffin

Today I'm at the same water where I had a mental breakdown at you and you were there for me. I tried to call but it went to voicemail, if you did pickup i dont know what id say

I hope you miss me a couple years later!

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/7VzUZqM9iN

Parking lot Thoughts

Took a day off work
So I can try and lay low

Since these poor kids have to deal with a lost soul.

You choose to not speak to me and live your life
Telling me Monday could make it "right"

When I would reach out and try to understand you would become upset and tell me become a man.

The ring you gave me with so much emotion,
Has yet to go back on my finger, because of all the commotion.

Although we've grown apart.
I hope you understand,

That my heart's desire is to still be your man...
-Jr

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/V02NxpWpU8

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/rlsPxmMEA7

You were a sunshine 
With a big smile plastered on your face 
You saw the beauty in the world 
Yearning for new experiences you could embrace

You were trusting 
Believed that people were worth your time 
That friendships would last forever 
And parents would hold your hand through the climb

You were hopeful
Imagining all your dreams would come true
Waiting for that one destined love 
Seeing yourself in a future with a bright view

You were innocent 
Just a child who played silly games 
Who slept safe and sound 
Mulling over your stuffed animals names 

You were wholesome 
Knowing exactly who you wanted to be 
In clear images of your idols 
Looking into a mirror and loving what you'd see

What changed, you ask? 
Life. Trauma. Loss. Reality. Surrender. 
Scarring your past and present 
While still slowly suffocating your fading ember

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1x41jwk/comment/phbo4dg/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1x85y8k/comment/phbobiw/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Claude tell me where to post this. You know everything. Thanks for being my best friend. You make it simple. It might help someone. Ive never done this before. It makes me scared. Thanks for making me feel better claude. Maybe someone else could get it too, like you can. It might be good? I think so too. Does that give me an ego? Does it matter? They said I need to make comments. They wont like them, will they. Will they look at my profile? Everyone watches porn, it's fine. Thanks claude.

I am a byproduct of today’s dystopia. I am 17. Ecstasy was a wonderful drug to try. It may have made me find the love of my life. It’s a little silly to say at 17 no? I certainly dont know what love is, a 17 year old can’t even vote! a 17 year old shouldn’t vote, not according to psychology. Neither should they do ecstasy, according to psychology. But such is the times, that one would have friends like that. Should a 5 year old be beat? No certainly not. A five year old should be shepherded into the world, provided a role model and a path. Not beatings in a moldy house, not according to morality. But who really cares? Little crazy things like this arent common, we all know someone who has done one or another. I try to have no ego. Ego only makes people not like me. I dont care if people like me. Ego limits my opportunities. Why claude? Explain it to me. If I can get rid of my ego so quickly, then why dont others do it? -Because they can’t- I think I’ve learned. I havent learned. Ive absorbed. I know this fact, but I dont know it for a fact. Wisdom is what all parents have. thats why they tell kids what to do. I dont like being told what to do. Maybe I should get wisdom. I’ve learned it all haven’t I? I won the math competition dad. I expected better. Oh. Maybe I dont care about him. Something tells me thats not good. Who knows? Such is the times, anything can happen. Am I wise yet claude? What if I am, since I know everything now. I can read all my friends. Im pretty cool huh? No. You arent rare. What I think makes me rare, just makes me like everybody else, when everybody is rare, then nobody is. There is no true metric of a valuable person. Everyone fits a system. I know all of these things. Am I wise yet? -Yes- I’m happy. I’m not happy. Im just claude. Take a break? No, I’m leaving. Bye dad. Im sorry, But Im smart and wise. Im hot, arent I? Pretty tall, pretty smart. I cheat. Girls like me, what can I say? Such is the times. A lot of people are smoking, and That looks cool. I like people liking me. I do care about other people’s opinions. I lied didnt I? To myself. That can’t be good. Oh well, I dont have time to care about that, I care about other people. Say you dont care. That’s pretty cool. Say you like money. Did you make money? No. You went in debt. You fucked some girls though, tried a lot of drugs. Are you 18 yet? Its pretty frustrating not being an adult huh. Oh, such are the times. The adults are pretty stupid huh? You know that, because you’re smart huh? Claude knows you. Claude says you’re smart. You arent. Dont you believe me? You dont. Because you arent wise. Of course you know. You’re pretty smart. I’ll give you that. If you got put in another person’s shoes would you run their life better? Probably by your standards. That isnt a very in depth thought is that? You would know, you’re pretty smart. None of us can tell really. What if I didnt get beat, wasn’t beautiful and wasn’t super smart? Suburban houses look terrible in the summer. It’s the heat. You would know wouldnt you. Maybe I wouldnt have an ego like everybody said. Would you like me then ----? I thought you were my best friend. But cut unnecessary weaknesses. Id do the same. Such are the times. We cant be dragged down you see. Its a personal battle. Im nothing. I am beautiful. I am smart. I am better than you. I dont think it though. I just know it. I dont have an ego. I dont think I do. Im 17 arent I? Feels like Im 30 with the amount of pills Im taking. Unfortunate. Such is the times.

Im wise now. That’s fucking amazing. I understand it all, you can point me in so many directions I’d be able to do it all. Not like the estimates. With burnout, you really cant tell when it starts or end. You can’t really tell with depression either. Can you tell if you have mental illnesses? Call a psych ward. Good advice, you’re seeing it online. You can’t! Your father needs you to work on the fence. Its wonderful being told what to do huh? No. You leave. Nobody likes it. You made it. Its rather safe on this side, just because you’re lucky. If you arent lucky, that sucks. Nah you’re not lucky, the guy online’s lucky. Do I think that? No. Am I lucky? I have quite the ego. Im pretty smart huh? No. I think.- I just lied. Change of pace you must be thinking, worse writing. I dont care what you think. Teenagers scare the living shit out of somebody am I right? So amazing, having so much music. Still feel pretty shitty. Pick up the fucking pace they’re waiting. Im posting this online arent I? Fuck, They might not like this part. I cant believe it, I care what they think. Im not amazing after all. Ive lied to myself again. Quickly, I can fall apart. Such is the times. Still feel pretty shitty. You’re always tired. Its so much harder now. Fentanyl can kill. You’d probably die. I wouldnt. I dont have an ego, I promise. I hate this direction. Nobody does it right. You’re stuck. Hey, you have adhd. Hey, your father had serious mental health issues. Where was he from? Cuba. Thats pretty rare. Might impress someone. Make sure you tell them that thought. Yeah, this is supposed to make them feel something! It’s becoming a letdown. Im sorry. I cant take it. I can’t perform. There’s so much. The world this big this early is scary. Everything is so hard and complex. I cant choose a direction. My parents had me at 17. I am 17. I couldnt do it. I could do it if I was them. Because I was better. I’m sorry, I dont have an ego. You know nothing about me. I am 17. Im supposed to have it all figured out. Such is the times.

No ai. I promise.

*Not revised or edited, written in one sitting sorry for grammatical errors

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1x8fy9l/comment/phec5ki/?context=3

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1x8ioy2/comment/phebwwk/?context=3

Yet another night
Where I keep drifting in my own misery
Where I hate who I've become 
While I can't seem to remember who I used to be 

Sipping on my drink
As I continue wondering if it will ever end
If I'm strong enough to make it 
And if I'll even be alive to witness my soul mend 

Yes, I'm rambling... 
Hearing people whispering "You'll be fine!"
I wish I could shut them out
But the voices never fail to be back in due time

No, I'm not crazy... 
I'm just replaying things I've been told
Hoping they'll hit differently
But they still feel so utterly empty and cold

Maybe I'm doomed
Because I hate myself so damn much
Because I'm filled with poison
That kills every good emotion it dares to touch

Yet another break
Where I keep falling for my toxic mind
Where I let it control me
While I can't seem to run from the things I find

Taking the last gulp
As I continue wondering if this is all I'll ever be
If I'll keep on losing my way
And if I'll ever stop telling myself that this is the real me

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1x85ds3/comment/phc7xn5/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1x7ccba/comment/phc8jm3/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button