My letters are merely pencil marks on paper

Only to express thoughts of existing emotions

My mind is so fleeting

My thoughts shan’t be captured

 

I cannot seem to keep the clothes in my drawers

Neatly folded all the time, they are continuously getting messed up

And then refolded only to be mixed again

 

I feel I should give thanks, …

But for what I do not know

 

90’s