In all honesty, I actually think that my essays really sucks sometimes. I do have an account on Wattpad I’m not going to talk about, and on days I find my self esteem sinking deeper till Adele can’t even roll in it (ha, get it).

But nevertheless, I still find myself writing poems I think aren’t good enough. Hopefully, my dictionary could expand as time passes, but for now I present this, to you.


The Mind of a Philosophy

You eat me up
Like termites on a wooden floor board;
Clawing and chewing on things we live on,
Just like that I live on.
You see, I’m not perfect.
I am the definition of facades, in due time,
Who will break into a million emotions.
I am the definition of cover ups and falsity.

Because you see, I’m different.
This is me, seventeen and growing
into many different feelings.
This is me, wasting youth on so many different directions.
And it will be me who grows into nothing
But empty shells and pretty smiles.

So leave me be to drown in my insecurities.
It’s asphyxiating, abounding,
But nothing beats knowing what I am but one
Whom you can’t do anything about.
It’s difficult.

I think I’ll live.



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