I NEVER REALLY CARED - ANTHOLOGY ARCHIVE

 It’s unfakeable, unmistakable—life goes on.
Time ticks, and being present is attainable.
I can’t quite remember when this feeling disappeared.
Maybe it’s always been there—the feeling of despair.
I don’t seem to care.
Hence the fact that I never really cared.
I’m running toward the bright sunlight in the sky. 

 That’s the thing about fever dreams; it’s your mind chasing freedom. I wrote these poems last year; they’re my archives of my heart on my sleeve. To the people I’ve loved and love; this one is written to you by you. Im a passionate lover; I want to be you. That is why I am so terrible; I want freedom and I want you too.