My face isn't carved in a mountain. I've never been struck by lightning.
I've never saved a crying baby from a burning house fire nor have I over come my misfortunes in life to acquire a name for myself. I consider myself a writer although all I've written is only pieces of torn limbs of my distraught existence.
Everything is a poem to me, it's my shorthand.
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Monday, October 12, 2015
Of True Love..
I'm not the type
To fall
Head over heals
In Love.
Not because
I don't try
To love
To touch
To forgive
To understand
But because
I'm skeptical
Of true love...
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