Literature
Because. I.Am.Me.
I'm a mess.
A whirlwind of destruction.
A freak that shouldn't exist.
I color outside the lines
and I draw on school desks.
I don't care if I say something I don't mean,
because later on, I'll let the guilt eat at my chest.
I never say anything right, my words never make sense.
But, I-I've grown to accept my mistakes,
because I"M A MESS.
I'm an artist.
A prodigy at writing my life in rhymes.
A love sick poet with dreams.
I draw pictures with words
and in one day I can create a masterpiece.
I open my heart out on paper,
in hopes someone can finally understand me.
But, I barely understand those scribbles from my own pen.
My th