YOU ARE READING

Poetry

and no matter how much you water scorched grass and withering weeds, you will never make a garden re-grow -M.R c.2016

Free Flow

15 0 0

by -aesthete-

by -aesthete-

A/N: This is a new kind of chapter that I wanna try, in which I sit and just write down all my thoughts. Tell me what you think about it maybe?

****

I'd like to learn how to draw really well,
or write amazing poetry.
I guess I'm okay,
but maybe not.

I hate how I am numb,
and how I drift through my days.
Even though I hoped I was doing okay,
I seem to have sunk deeper.

I mumble my thank yous
which irritates me as well.
Why can't I ever
thank someone properly?

I love the sound of cars on a highway,
the engines roaring,
wind picking up,
the rush as they go by.

I don't like going outside,
it scares me a lot.
It always makes me nervous,
though I never know why.

I can't say half of the things on my mind,
because they're too twisted.
That's why I never get my point across,
and I end up disappointed.

Why can't I ever do anything productive on my free days?
All I do is write and make stupid art,
or take a nap.