You carried and brought me into
a world without my consent.
I exist. I let you see the happy
version of me.
Every day I struggle with being whatever
version of me I can be.
Each version determines how I survive.
A copy of a copy of myself.
I doubt you possess the original me.
The original copy is long gone. Find me.
YOU ARE READING
Caffeine and Me
PoetryA collection of poetry ranging from brain farts to exploring why I bother getting up in the morning. Most likely there is some form of caffeine to keep me awake (or alert) enough to type my thoughts out regarding my depression, struggles within my d...
