Every single poem is about
being alone
I’m in my feelings
Fat and ugly
Home doesn’t even feel like home
I’m tired and hangry
even when I’m full
I can sit all day hoping
but my nights are always cold
I wake up feeling weary
knowing each day to just drag on
I can’t even rhyme
my poem into a lovely song
I’ll choke before I lie
just as I’ll cry before I dance
I hate this fucking place
and all of the reflective glass
Poetry on Paper 