It's not good poetry, I admit. In my defense it was never meant to be read. These are figments from the journal I have kept secret for almost 10 years now, intertwining bits of lost love and deep melancholy. I have published it in hope someone, somewhere feel seen, and tell them good things are yet to come. Despite it all, I chose life.
It's not good poetry, I admit. In my defense it was never meant to be read. These are figments from the journal I have kept secret for almost 10 years now, intertwining bits of lost love and deep melancholy. I have published it in hope someone, somewhere feel seen, and tell them good things are yet to come. Despite it all, I chose life.