The interior of my home looks haphazardly put together

One color runs through all the mismatching furniture: black

It wasn’t planned; it just happened

Others compliment it as being artistic

Ha Ha Ha. If only the knew how all the furniture really came to be in my possession

It’s all hand me downs. Nothing new. Nothing I’ve bought for myself

It’s become a collection of beautiful & chaotic black furniture

Sometimes, I do not recognize my own home

Yet somehow, I always know that I can change it to make it better.

 

The interior of my mind can only be described as chaos

One emotion is felt above all: anger

I didn’t plan on being angry; it just happened

Others compliment me as being well put together

Ha Ha Ha. If only they knew how anger came to be my first & foremost emotion

It’s borrowed anger. How can people be so cruel? Nothing I’ve brought on myself.

It’s become a collection of anger & yelling & almost no happiness

Sometimes, I do not recognize my own mind

Yet, somehow, I always know I can pray to God to make it better

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