Most of my writing is shit

Lately. It’s because

I’ve been self loathing

And it’s not good to write

Depressed.

Ok. I’m not depressed. I’m lonely

For people I never see. I’m lonely for the years before my mother was sick

When I had a friend in this world

Besides Henry

He never needs anyone

He has it all figured out

He drinks his vodka and passes out

Maybe in the morning we’ll make love

If he feels like it

If not I’ll make crepes and bacon

And he’ll be happy enough

To make it out of another week

Sometimes I write when I’m going through some shit

And it makes me feel better.

I dont know what I am supposed to say

Anymore. None of it makes me feel

Better.

Everyone is breaking. Everyone is trying to hide

Until summer is over

Until it’s all over

Author: annieepoetry

I am poet. I am woman. I write with my thumbs. Read my poems. Tell me what You think. You may find the love poem you always thought someone wrote for you. Or the one you meant to write But Becareful lovers tell zingers and often break hearts Milky Way Earth U.S.A Madison WI

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