Robbed of my self-assurance
Criminals intruded my cage of thought
I should have pulled up my heart the second she touched my stomach
But when the darkness of the room equated to the color I felt,
I was over.
You see, I got sick last night.
He melted me with his smile
Propositions to distinguish the anchor
He was my ride.
Vacation dependent on the little hundred purple soldiers
Hitch hiking isn't for certain
opportunity missed.
I got sick last night.
- Author: sensitiveE ( Offline)
- Published: May 7th, 2017 21:47
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 25
- Users favorite of this poem: leftoverlovethings
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