What Is Next
If poems are memories that haunt us, then what is the first thing that comes to mind
What is fresh in our minds is never too much
Too much, too much
I tell myself what is too much?
Isn’t this how its supposed to be?
No more overthinking, express what you have already thought
Memory stays with you forever and I put it down on my paper
Almost feels like a sting to my skin when I think of it
It was just the beginning and now what is next
The stinging pain comes back at the thought of
What is next
If poems are memories that haunt us, then what is the first thing that comes to mind
What is fresh in our minds is never too much
Too much, too much
I tell myself what is too much?
Isn’t this how its supposed to be?
No more overthinking, express what you have already thought
Memory stays with you forever and I put it down on my paper
Almost feels like a sting to my skin when I think of it
It was just the beginning and now what is next
The stinging pain comes back at the thought of
What is next
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