You are something I need.
I feed off of your attention.
Every curse you send my way is like a dream come true, because the smallest bit of attention I receive from you,
Is like a sweet, but venomous scent.
I breathe it in without even caring what the after effects could be.
YOU ARE READING
•Mind on Paper•
PoetryThis is going to be a collection of late night thoughts and spurs of inspiration for your viewing pleasure. Some of these could be happy, sad, melancholic, and much more. My brain is the brush, the paper, or in this case the screen is my canvas. I...
