Where’s mine?

Oh look, it’s my own again given to myself by myself. Despite all the you can’t help saying, where is yours?

Not the gigs not the just fucking fucking fuckingakajdkajlksdjf;aldsjfal

I fucking scream so much sometimes for the thing I don’t need but I would just wouldn’t mind now and again if I could have a little bit please?

I love that I’m a giver but I can only fill myself up so many times before someone else will have to fill me up.

I think I just want to someone to whisper in my ear how beautiful I am and I can’t disagree.

Like someone writing my poem but not cos I’d hate that.