The image shows a black background with a pink arm stretched, neon yellow fingernails holding onto its shoulder.

Mind

I didn’t write for it to be read

In fact I had hoped it would never be read.

I wrote for my mind to feed

And that voice that keeps trying to sow seeds.

So if it doesn’t makes sense,

It’s because it was never meant to make sense

For it never had any sort of sense.

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