She's a lovely little flower
Smells like the summer breeze
Cliche words though can't explain
The things she does to me
Staying up late to fantasize her touch
Hoping she might do the same
Who needs sleep when you have her as morphine
Sure as hell not me
But it makes me break down
And no one picks up my pieces
Because she'll never feel the same
And it hurts worse than everything
I like to try to numb myself
Drink just enough to get that buzz
But she always comes back to mind
And I end up a mess again
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Collection
PoetryThese poems are things I write to keep myself from breaking down The words might not mean much to you But to me they mean everything
