It’s like a relationship.
A very dysfunctional one at that.
You don’t get me, I don’t get you.
Still we slowly try to amend our differences.
I by reading you and learning.
You by being well you
And hiding secrets I don’t know
But yet we work together hand in hand.
To save our relationship from the failure.
You’ll never understand me l I’ll never understand you
Eleven years we’ve worked
At finding out the truth.
We shall work a couple of years more.
And maybe our efforts will bear fruit.
Because I’ve been showing more interest in writing poetry than theories of psychology and what not I have decided to make this a series, What will I use the random snapchats of my books for otherwise?
I’m a bruised up warrior,
This battle has hit me hard.
From all directions,
And I’m just ripped apart.
But I face you,
With my headache,
And my tortured brain.
Fight against you with my green tea,
And my highlighters aplenty.
While you try to attack me,
With definitions and theories.
This isn’t just a exam,
This is world war three.
Between you and me books,
Consider me hooked.
In the midst of studying for my finals, I penned down this piece
26 letters, as familiar as can be,
Come together to form something absurd.
Make me rethink my decisions.
A couple of pages 200 or so,
Filled with the language I think I know.
Then why is it so confusing,
As I let you suck my soul,
Mind and body whole.
Dying slowly in front of you,
Books I love, but not you.