My stomach a fist
When entering the door
Of predigested decisions
And bland ideas.
The tiny speckle of hope
And possibility of self expression
keeps me going
In and out.
Advertisements
My stomach a fist
When entering the door
Of predigested decisions
And bland ideas.
The tiny speckle of hope
And possibility of self expression
keeps me going
In and out.
I love this. I’ve felt this way myself.