POT TO PISS IN

I hate the fact that my life is a mess.

Nothing here seems to connect.

My gram calls me fat and my mom laughs.

Here nothing makes sense to me.

My human brain, is shallow but also deep.

Deeper than the canyon. Deeper than my soul.

Darkness creeps in when words can’t speak.

To me I see sadness hidden in between every

Sidewalk, But all you see is rain.