I am beautiful,
NOTHING
can bring me down
EXCEPT
your moans
which bounds
everything sound -
everything reasonable,
everything that ought not to be found.
Like joy
Like pleasure
Like an ill-concoction
of damnable love,
that has held me spellbound
in the sea of deceit.
Telling myself: "I am beautiful, nothing can bring me down"
When all it takes is of you to smile
Then I'm solemnly wrecked
Miserably shuffed back
To where all things stupid are kept
Yeah, I am beautiful.
YOU ARE READING
Wicked
Poetry...If I tell you you're my sun and moon If I tell you you've completely unwrapped my cocoon If I tell you I'm still alive Because I find life in your eyes If I tell you this emotion is wicked And even if it kills me, for hell or heaven, I'm prepared...
