S A P P Y.

This book is a chaotic collection of half-hearted poems, more like an angsty teenager’s notebook than anything profound. It’s a wannabe-Bukowski knockoff, pieced together from borrowed lyrics, movie lines, and empty dreams, written by a guy trying too hard to be seen as a tortured genius. Beneath the rough writing and repetitive musings, there’s just a young, angry person grappling with rejection, failed romances, and unfulfilled ambitions. Don’t expect any answers here. This book is simply the mess of someone hoping, maybe foolishly, that someone out there might actually care.