ame sentinelle, murmurons

my lame-ass poetry.
mostly I talk about the ocean and depression.
I write for myself even if it's selfish.
enjoy



Forward
Backward

it was raining

all I know how to do is cry

cry and fake a smile

everything else broken like a fragment of who I was

my subconscious showing itself to my skin

my soul has no water though

to allow my heart to rot like this

are the tears from my mind,

this thing telling me what I know and don’t,

and I weep for the ignorance my brain cannot accept?