When things undone,
You hit my number,
I love being treated like 911,
It smells like baked butter.I will always be there,
Don't mind my stupid hair,
You asked why I always stare?
Maybe you just got the flare.fatin a.
YOU ARE READING
Just a Poem
PoetryFeed your melancholy soul Understand every words and feel it with your deepest emotion and feelings. fatin a.
Emergency
When things undone,
You hit my number,
I love being treated like 911,
It smells like baked butter.I will always be there,
Don't mind my stupid hair,
You asked why I always stare?
Maybe you just got the flare.fatin a.