Well, here's one.
The thought of you sickens me.
You're face reminds me of everything I've been running from.
Your eyes staring at me makes my heartburn.
Feels like the stomach acid is burning through my esophagus.
Most vial.
The worst part is that I care for it all.
My mind is spinning cause you said you didn't want it.
But I need it.
Sick son of a b***h.
Hurting me like this…
******** this.
******** you.
********…
Is this poem good enough for you?
melancholy_vomit · Tue Jul 21, 2009 @ 01:07am · 1 Comments |