4-9-20

More confusion, strong winds blowing, wandering the streets,

Lost destinations, self-hatred growing, god what a punk I am.

No place to be, no way to be – creativity – who am I kidding?

Mocking laughter instead of acceptance.

What led to this inversion-

This everlasting need to hate myself, ever-present.

Any love seems to dissolve so quickly, to return to the most familiar feeling.