I don't know what it was, maybe it was you pressing the pen too hard against my skin, when you wrote your promises and the chemicals entered my bloodstream.
So now I am stuck with you, running through my veins, pumping the hurt, and the pain into my heart when someone says your name.
- 2:11 A.M.
YOU ARE READING
Bloodstream
PoetryI feel used. Incomplete. Used. But there is no way for me to stop loving you.
