Working On My Life
b'My God must have been out sick the day I was forced to kiss the abyss. Morality suffers when eyes are wet and aching. "They\'re f***ing tortured." ...She was talking about my eyes. So I took my arm and muscle pumped my signature into the second step of my stairs and tree carved my literature in the backyard and called it, "working on my life." You laugh and ask me what does, "working on your life even mean?"\\xa0\\xa0I knew then my hearts were too strong for you, too red and too blue. You lack empathy, and it\'s disgusting. I am not perfect. Nor do I wish to be but I would never ask someone to explain why they\'re not me.\\n\\n--- \\n\\nSend in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/nakedpoetry/message\\nSupport this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/nakedpoetry/support'