The Road To Publication Is Like A

My Heart And My Trust Were In The Process Of Collapsing. And That Collapse Created A Vacuum In My Chest.

This Time, For The First Time, I Saw The Possibilities In Giving Up. I Even Found Hope In It.

You Told Me I Wrote That Poem Because I Was Afraid Of Dealing With Myself. And I Used My Mom As An Excuse, Accusing Her Of Not Appreciating Or Accepting Me, When I Should Have Been Saying Those Words Into A Mirror.

I Hate Not Knowing What To Believe Anymore. I Hate Not Knowing What's Real.

That Is All That Happened. Why Did You Hear Something Else?