I thought my grip on reality was strong.
I assumed I had everything under control.
But the moment you if faced the other way ignoring me,
did i get a slap on the face opening my eyes.
because that's when my grip loosened and everything went into chaos.
YOU ARE READING
Scrabbles
Poetrymatchsticks only go to waste when they are lit and once they are lit their lives are slowly being smothered just like humans sometimes i write nice and sometimes i don't all depends on my head
