Last night, I held my heart to the air, let it be known to you exactly what I think, what I feel, what I say, because you said
"Peter isn't sincere, it saddens me"
Mother, I would have thought you've known of this world's deceit and fallacies,
Mother, I wondered how many more tests I needed to pass with great scores to gain your trust again, not that I'd need it, I'll be leaving in a year,
Mother, how different is my once in a lifetime relaxation experiment from your time spent with non-religious friends in a table with cards and chips, laughing just as loudly as you did as a kid, only this instance invoke by 8% alcohol
Wondering,
Whether I need another swing to figure you out
YOU ARE READING
Not Quite, Midnight | poems
Poetry~she sets out to write for herself but casts a line from her ship of lunatics in case there was someone adrift trying to read along.
