You are anxiety. When you were little, they called it being a Worry wart. They rolled their eyes when you cried because your mom was late coming home,
By B Day6 years ago in Poets
Art is art, man. A beautiful bullshit That makes us feel Like we are something More than Smoked cigarettes in laundromats
With you, I saw things like Oversized tee shirts and an apartment together And your roommate telling us we were too loud in bed
"I am a mess” I say, more sure of it than before I was 22 And less sure of why. “I am a mess” I say, unapologetically, not seeking councel
I honestly couldn’t tell you When I decided I could only love The boys who looked at me like an adventure, The boys who followed me through the air-