the ugly writers


Didn’t know that this time would come,
I can be who I really am.
I didn’t need to pretend just to impress you,
Because I know whatever happens,
You’ll accept me for who I am.


You’re like an egg’s shell – broken. Like a mosaic. Made of pieces. You’re an art – beautiful. Like an abstract. Full of perplexity. You’re too much and less enough. You’re a paradox of hate and love. You’re the dawn and twilight of my life.