i am not a writer. i vomit the first words that come into my brain, and they flutter to the pages like withering petals, and i leave them there because they look disgusting. because it's natural. bile and saliva and thorns read just like poetry if you press 'enter' enough times.
here it is.
and here i am.
i can't stress enough
how much
i want to close my eyes.
you could smash the keyboard for ten minutes and still call it literature. if you squint hard enough, a picture of your actual garbage bin could be considered photography. we're all scraping the bottom of the barrel trying to find the meaning in the littlest things. words are words and maybe they mean one thing to you and another thing to me, but the truth is that it was never meant to. i'm not a writer. i'm a teenage girl with a laptop, and you're just a stranger with a book, trying to relate to the perspective of a person that you've never really knew.
CZYTASZ
Open To Interpretation
PoezjaThis is a collection of some of my old poems, short stories, and other writing that I created a few years ago, while I was going through a really rough patch in my life. I wanted to publish it back then, but this is the best that I can do for now. E...
