It starts in my heart
And flows into my soul.
It's desperate and it's needed.
It's like a disease
And it fills all my needs,
So fuck it, I'm gonna feed it.
YOU ARE READING
Maybe This Is Me
PoetryMy brains, my blood, my heart, my friends. It's all I've got. *note* I have something like this already called "Consider Me Dead", But I wanted to start over... take out some things/add things. So, jst to let you guys know.
