Your shirt smells like strawberry, can I keep it like how you carry me? I'm crazy and you won't understand me because I am high and you're my addiction for free.
Your hugs and kisses that mesmerizes me, the sweet words from your mouth that started my fantasy. Just you and me cuddling in the rooftop under the light of a thousand stars, but you stabbed me and left me with scars.
The shirt I've missed, your lips I have kissed, sorry for being me, cause I don't like me too if it weren't for you because I like me better when I'm with you.
Please don't leave me scars, hold my hand and let's find stars, but I think we don't need them anymore, because I have you, wishes no more.
Please don't leave a broken heart, I am fragile like everyone says, I wanted to be appreciated like how you do.
I am selfish, please love me too. Like how I like your shirt that smell like strawberries but I love how I kiss your pinkish lips.
You've walked towards me, expecting that maybe you'll come back to me yet you've got your shirt back, and yet still you don't like me, because simply I am fat and ugly.
YOU ARE READING
Mischief of Pain
PoetryI wrote a pieces of my misery in this book, don't judge with what you will read because as further as I update some shit out here, you won't like what to see. I don't need sympathy, I need readers who will understand me, because in this beautiful wo...
