When i put my book down,
Leave my email's and phone alone,
Where am i where do i live now
Because my body's not my home
When i look, look to myself
I see blue eye's and skin of health
But looking further i see a bloated ego
Real feelings don't get through, too feeble
I live through email, i live through phone
To stop emotions hitting home
I know they'll hurt and so i hide
I drown myself in words and lie's
But when it's over and i have to think
And i fight the tears through endless blinks
I sit alone upon my bed
With countless story's running through my head
I sit exposed with no-where to hide
So in my poems i do confide
P.S again not about me
By J
