You are my every thought
You are in my night mares
And my strangest dreams
You are the light touch in my finger tips
The wide curve of my upper eye lid
The wave in my hair
The curve where my neck meets my shoulder
The dip in my upper lip
The curve in my eye lashes
You are in the air I breathe
The ground I walk on
You are my every thought
You are my every thought
You are my night mares
You are the building blocks of every dream
You are the rough skin of my un predictable fingers
the darkness in my eyes
The suffocating locks of hair
The damaged skin
The crack in my lonesome lips
The tear soaked eye lashes
You are the air I choke on
The ground I fall on
You are my every thought
DU LIEST GERADE
is it still a joke now?
PoetryThe utter most inner thoughts and feelings of one who has but no other way to express them and therefore without a pen a paper she very much may spontaneously combust in an explosion of secrets bottled up for far far too long. : )
