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- She let the smoke fill her lungs while, music flooded her ears, like rushing rivers. And darkness grew over the house, as she sat, atop a bed, with her best half, but with no people. She was not the best, but she sure was a good unique, girl. She deserved to be loved, but no one else was ever there to give it. And she forever waits, in the abyss, simply lost.
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For Him » Poetry
Poetry- la douleur exquise; (n.) the heart-wrenching pain of wanting the attention of someone unattainable. _ This is a poetry sort of book, I guess you could say. Each part in this book, has words that come from someone, whose heart has been through w...
