Poems

Words I’d like to call art.

Rational fears

Rational fears, just a bunch of seemingly deathly attempts of life. Sometimes a tight space scare you of asphyxiation, which is the initiation of the ungraceful act of fear. I have so many fears it’s almost passional, I need to start adding that to my get to know me card; feeling it may scare people away, and I’ll just laugh it off, how cynical.

But don’t worry this is non-clinical. No one wants a psycho wife, neither do I, neither am I. I’ll swam freely in your lies, as your ego rise to its highest points. As you’ll never see my breaking Point

I don’t like calling my art poems though much might say so, I never think that my silly little writings are ever good enough to be called “art” I always thought that, that would make actual poets felt invalidated. But if art is whatever the artist thinks is, then I’d like to think that this is art.

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