This is my poetry. For the most part it has been for my own amusement or when I haven’t been able to find my tiny violin.
Unsent-draft messages began exactly as described. Always in some sort of transit; be that the daily commute or squinting bleary eyed after a heavy night. Reaching for my phone to start writing something. Anything. Wherever the mood or the company of my fellow passengers would take me. Why draft text messages? Who does that? Well this all started way back in the days of Nokia 3210s, puppy love riddled musings and acne. Now it’s purely for nostalgia.
I hope you enjoy what you read and feel free to speak your mind.
unsent draft messages 