Pulling mulberry's out of my pockets
If only things were easy as that
But she's in your kitchen
Blistering and bruising your neck
Blissful, conservative slicing deck
Hungry for three more shots
Of the ambitious moodswing whiskey
She's breaking your only promise
I'm learning that everything isn't real
And that all my poems are about her
But I don't mind, because I care
I stay up late to write
Only to feel that I don't deserve anything
Just another unworthy girl, i am
She strikes me with her desirability
She shoves you with her loveliness
She will live forever though
We will not put her to an end
This young suffering girl named Loneliness
We hold her in our hearts,
She kisses our necks.
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...
