Poetry / Library of Emotion

the things i said were meant to be a figment of your imagination.
but i confused fiction and reality with the self-help sections
and came to the conclusion that you were not interesting
enough for a biography.

your heart in the corner of the desk held more dust than the journal locked in my chest.

and its a hard thing to come to terms with the fact that you don’t know what you want anymore.
and its even harder to accept that.
because in the back of your mind, you know what that means.

and that is why you refuse to leave the young adult section.
because things can only get so bad there.

but nothing like non-fiction.

disasters roam there…and so does your last name.

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