As she grasped the steel she so very much despises she thought of the people she would be leaving behind, the boy, the boy she could not shake from her inner soul.
The boy with the short black hair.
The boy that bought her the Arizona.
The boy she craved.
She thought of his face, that face that kept her breathing, the smile he found um-bearable but the smile that she found comfort in, his scent.
That hypnotic smell of cigarettes and after shave. the smell that kept her always latched to him.
The tears she spilled when she thought of him.
Never finding out.
The way the boy with the short black hair felt about his... "princess"...
She scribbled her hand writing on a tatty piece of paper addressed to;
"My Baby Boy"
She wrote,
"To the boy i never really met, the boy with the Arizona, the boy i love. Do not blame yourself for my mistakes. It's not your fault. Fuck it, it is in a way your fault. You aren't here, you can't be here. But you're not here. Anyway im rambling.
Iloveyou my Arizona wielding cowboy
YOU ARE READING
If I Tremble
PoetryThis is basically my thoughts and random writing that doesn't make it into a book hope you enjoy my babes
