To my mind/ heart in bedlam

I write
to let out all the muddled feelings
and give it a shape
for which I would smile back
someday in future
If you think I write for you
I might


But that’s hardly any true
I write for me
It’s like taking a long 2 hour bath
after you finished the coding
which took years to build
for that god damn calculator app
It’s rather like being high
without really being one
It’s like wearing a tight jacket
with special inner of sharp nails
But you can smile
you believe it’s acupuncture
and it’s doing you good
you hope, false it may be
hope is what we live for
Hope is what I write for
I write out of sorrow;
Madness, sympathy, kindness;
A part of me is still alive
it fails to trust on this
All it knows is
it can’t keep its cool
unless a beautiful rendition
is made by the lazy fingers.
-Yours truly, lazy fingers

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