It's burns, like fire burning at the inside of my throat.
The niceness of knowing I'm gonna die.
It burning a pit in my stomach
Death coming slowly and quickly all at once
My body dropping to the floor
The doctors won't be able to do anything
Because my Love for you made me want to drink bleach.
YOU ARE READING
Poems. My storys into words.
PoetryMy poems. I'm not a professional, pretty far from it, these are really just my thoughts put into words.
