Always in the back of a group trying to find the,
next perfect moment to escape to a,
Xenial destination.
I thought I could do it, I thought I had the motivation.
Only if I could be like them perfectly fitting myself into every conversation.
Until I no longer can stand this act of,
supplication.
YOU ARE READING
Unniched.
Poetry"Unniched" is not bound by themes or constraints; rather, it thrives in the randomness of inspiration. These poems are a mosaic of emotions, thoughts, and observations, woven together by the thread of randomness that knows no boundaries. As you flip...
