I could write you a song if you'd like
Prick myself with a golden needle
If you asked, i'd drown myself in cocaine
And breathe it in like chlorine
You'd never acknowledge my triumph
If I could call it something or other
Tying my hands to the back of my neck
Take my throat and paint it blue
A target for the golden bullet shot deep
You could kill me, you could throw me
And never get accused of a bloody death
I love you and your persuasion so
YOU ARE READING
melancholia: a collection of poetry
PoetryThis is a collection of poetry all written by myself The individual poems will be marked as parts with their names. These poems are completely my own. They are the essence of my soul. It's like when you are younger and you just painted something out...
