Poetry.
Poetry.
Just bullshit words on a bullshit blank page.
The clouds were grey today, the air both
cool and warm.
It reminded me of Seattle.
It reminded me
of wanting
to go there.
I think about going
going
going
all the time.
I'm asked
all
the
time
whatI'mdoingwhereI'mgoingwhoI'mseeingwhatI'mwritingtowhomIhavesubmitted
and I have
few
answers to give them.
But I do
know
that I am trying to figure
it
out.
I'm trying to
become
who I am supposed
to be.
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