Maybe my life,
Is one whole disaster,
One half second,
Before it all comes c r a s h i n g
D
O
W
N.
Yeah, maybe I was a mistake or perhaps a regret,
A result of what's now become hatred,
Extinguished f l a m e s,
And burnt
F
E
A
T
H
E
R
S.
But my lips taste like sorrow,
Bitterness and salt,
From my angel's tears,
But don't get me wrong, I'm no angel.
And my blood must taste sweet,
Like matured dark wine,
Because recently,
Everyone's wanting to see it s p i l l e d on the carpet.
Maybe I'm the sicko,
The girl that can't leave her bed,
Because she longs to keep on dreaming,
And hoping for her dreams to come real.
But remember,
I'm the angel,
Who cries hearing your screams,
But remember,
I'm the sicko,
Who haunts your darkest dreams.
..............................................................
Welp. I wrote this one when I was angry, so it's sort of pessimistic. Also, for the record, I do not condone drinking alcohol, generally and in unhealthy amounts (especially underage drinking) because I've seen the affects that it can have when an addiction is formed.
Thank you so much for reading, it truly means a lot to me. Keep on hoping. Xx
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Swallows- A Poetry Collection
Poesía~My heart soars with the swallows... ~ Swallows- "Peaceful, Loving and full of Hope..." - What I wish I could be... ~This is a collection of the words I was never able to say~ Thank you to everyone who reads thi...
