Let me paint you an unending story
about the things behind my forehead
there is nothing much to worry
except that sometimes I cry on my bed.

The story is covered with honest lies
that grows behind my eyes
planted by a deceptive truth
that bears an overthinking fruit.

The story is twisted by my awkwardness
socially, my actions are unpredictable
but please try to understand my weakness
until then forgive me for I'm unstable

Let us paint ourselves an unending story
we'll live at the friendship storey.


© nicoclancy