8/8/16 6:55 PM - Baby
We're riding in a broken bus,
But that's alright since I'm with you.
Still learning love and how to trust,
At times we hurt, but our love is true.
I've never felt this way before.
Damn you, ocean. We have won.
Loving you is not a chore,
Hold on baby, we're not done.
I can't describe how I feel in your arms.
Pure, and loved, and completely whole.
At first what won me was your charms,
But now you have become my home.
YOU ARE READING
The Broken Book
PoesiaA collection of poems that I've written. Updated at the beginning of each month Frequent triggers: Self harm, death, suicide, suicidal thoughts, depression, etc. Read with caution
