Even when I manifest
I foresee pain in my way
I do not manifest for my future
but what I could potentially create
and I always did my best work
hanging of a cliff
The darkness has always been inviting
A velvet black cushion
that would let me rest my head
sink deeper and deeper
until I was no longer visible
But until then,
I have a few vices,
poems I never showed,
feelings I swallowed
and the monsters under my bed
You can get your copy of my first novel on Amazon: Little Rebellion
Poetry Books: Identity Crisis, Rehab
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