My secret

This is frankly my most honest poem to date. It follows no structure or style.Think of this less as a poem and more of a confession. In fact do it with all of my work. Did you honestly think that my poems were poems? My words are my mirror. They reveal my fucked up state. I am simply put fucked.

In short my secret is I am no good at writing. What I write is more of a cluster of jumbled up thoughts.Jumbled up thoughts that i'm thrilled to death about. I can't get very technical with my work. All I really have are unique topics.

Now where is that bloody rock for me to crawl under?