I know I haven't been active in the literary forums for quite a while so after this I am going to make some comments This is just a poem I wrote a minute ago about how I'm feeling right now.
I don’t think I can write
Right now
Without burning the paper.
Because I’m scared and bored and waiting
And I can’t seem to
Think
Without thinking of him
I’m burning and tired and wiped out
Restless and useless and
Fucking about
I have something I need to say
And until I say it
I’m speechless.
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