Written on 13.7.2017
This house is a fucking mad house!
Filled with different noises
Which I’m most certain are in my head
And not the the actual house;
So most pro’lly the mad house is indeed my brain.
Wait! but just look at the way it is!
The long unpainted walls
filled with tidbits of graffiti I did when in need of escape
The unfinished ceilings that let you see some bit of the outside world.
And there sitted in the atleast comfortable bed, in pink sweaters and no bra is a girl.
Her BlackBerry turned off she pens her thoughts into a notebook
She was ‘posed to use for work
but oh well…
Poetry chose her and thus lines of art she pens in hopes that they’ll sustain her a lifetime to come.
She goes on to jolt,
Just cause you see me alone doesn’t mean I am lonely.
I got voices in my head that keep me company.
I’ve got sweet memories that keep me alive.
Monologues 