just a girl who drinks black coffee in the morning and stares into the black void at night.
bitter.
bitter.
it keeps her awake.
she's haunted by monsters in her dreams.
if she could be comforted maybe she'd be able to cry.
if she could cry maybe she'd be able to sleep.
if she could sleep maybe she'd be able to be awake without her bitter, bitter black coffee.
it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.
her dreams leave her head feeling uneasy.
how can it be so bad when the dreams are sent to her head on account of an angel?
YOU ARE READING
love is like a roller coaster
Poetry𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙪𝙥 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙. the hopeless ramblings of a hopeless romantic. > (completed)
