My heart longs to be skip forward in my shuffle
But I cannot,
You consume my every thought.
Strumming,
My thrumming heart.
Your eyes light the way
In the cold dark.
How you warmed my heart.
You were a song
I was stuck on
And my heart kept replaying you.
Stuck on replay
Replay.
YOU ARE READING
Oleander-COMPLETED
PoetryALL RIGHTS RESERVED Her words were like oleander flowers, so delicate, like a gossamer spider string, but poisonous, like her scarred, despondent heart. *in other words, my crap poetry that is still really important to me*
