sometimes I wonder what I'm doing with my life. sitting here writing poetry barely anybody reads-why pour my heart out in my work on a platform for the public, when the public never sees it. yet somehow it means something to me still, even though it also means nothing at all. I don't know why I care so much about something I don't care about it at all.
Sounds like nonsense?
Good.
YOU ARE READING
What Keeps me Up(NEW TITLE)
PoetryA collection of poetry Of all the things I couldn't say Out loud Of the things That haunt me And keep me up At night *NEW TITLE* previously titled "The Dark Corners of my Mind" cover made using Desygner
