This heat isn't that kind that warms
For I am still cold inside
This heat provides no light
I am still left in the dark
This kind of heat
It burns
Leaves marks on my skin
Never lets me forget
His kind of love is heat
But not the kind that
Warms
The kind that burns
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Whispers Of Our Soul
PoetryWords are the lifeline that connect my heart to the world. This is a collection of my 2am confessions and my 12pm ideas. Told from the viewpoint of my struggling mind, my broken heart, my wild soul, and my screaming mouth. "Distruggi quello che ti d...
