Poetry (words)

Open books. 

I wish I had a fickle heart… when at the end of one chapter another would start. I wish my depths were that of a shower and I’d change my mind from hour to hour. 

Constant is the place where I sit, the outlook, the view I live in it. The flaws are here for all to see. They are mine and I own them honestly.

The things that I write are those I believe so please excuse the heart shaped stain on my sleeve. It’s endless, relentless this emotion you see. It’s mine and I feel it constantly. 


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