All the things I really want to say, they get lost in the back of my throat. As soon as I go to say it, it just drifts away Like a toy boat.
Instead I write a poem, it’s more like prose.
They all are similar. The same underlying tone.
Easily summed up as “Oh fuck it, I’m better off alone”.
It feels like I’ve seen a ghost. It’s funny how haunting the past can be; alas, it still makes me wonder. Do you ever think of me?