Gibbrish of Mind: trying to make sense

This isn’t polished poetry—it’s midnight scribbles sudden confessions and thoughts that refused to stay in my head. A mix of sense and nonsense chaos and calm it’s the kind of writing that belongs to late hours when sleep doesn’t come easily. Somewhere in these random lines you may stumble upon a piece of yourself—or at least find comfort in knowing that you’re not the only one awake with too many thoughts.