1-4-16 forty three days clean
The clock on the wall tick tocks as we sing our rhyme.
We're dancing to the fact that we're just buzzkills in the fountain of youth;
Our souls are so old, we're chipped like the tiles on this floor.
Why do you only meet me at midnight?
Love, every night doesn't give me enough time.
I want to know your soul,
Dead and decayed.
I guess that's how I like 'em
For the games that they play.
My head's spinning in circles as you drain yourself from my system.
I'm not ready to watch you leave just yet.
The way you disappear,
Fading in and out of your life
Drives me insane.
I want you to stay.
Please.
Tonight,
Don't leave.
- (m.m)
YOU ARE READING
Haunted (Poetry)
PoetryInside of my head lies rooms of emotions, and stories. I don't own this empire of a hotel on my own, though. If you listen and look closely, you'll find blood within every shade of red, ghosts in every mirror, and screams in every ballad. I'm haunte...
