I climb, I hide,
The trees that line,
These lonely alleys,
Of my mind.
Burning down the trees,
Which line that memories.
Haunting in every way,
Good memories turned more stranger.
Can you stop remembering?
Can you stop regretting?
Can you stop breaking me down?
Can you stop missing it?
Stop, whispers someone in my mind...
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Venomous Pain
Poetry#8 blame #10 two-faced # 17 agony # 30 feelings # 59 short poems # 62 lie Why does everything always feel worse at night? Beware of PERPETRATORS in DISGUISE!! Some people set fires wherever they go and have mastered the art of playing to burn the vi...
