-----A Poem by Juzowhat is a title
i wander through life as if i'm not already on my third chance.
mental illness ruined me- it's made me turn friends into poetry when i should be holding them close. these words don't love me, don't tell me what i need to hear. these words are just empty relics. his name was stop, and her name was go and this confusion eats at my brain like a parasite. i can only write when i'm suffering; why can't i fill up these pages with love? my poems are all depression and loneliness- all about past summers and pain.
© 2015 JuzoAuthor's Note
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