dear oliver,
screw the rules.
i’m coming to see you.
i don’t care if i blind
you. if i’m so goddamn
ugly that the nurse has
to even push me away.
i need to see you.
rose doesn’t talk to me
anymore. she says that
it looks like i need to
sort out my problems
before she has an
influence on me.
apparently drinking
at 3 am is a sign of
depression.
i’m not depressed.
i’m just sad.
apparently sneaking
in mom’s pills is illegal.
for the human soul.
why speak about soul
when you don’t even
have one?
i traded my soul for
knowledge. and i got
some.
i now know that i
love you.
quinn
YOU ARE READING
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PoetryQuinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is...
