lady-elle
Whisper
American
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peeling skin.
old habits die hard
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nervous habits die harder
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i hadn't touched myself
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since i got over you
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b
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little girls and angry men.
all love lost
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in a single moment
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on a misused bed
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she asks why
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he's too angry to reply
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and
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1.8k
i don't know.
I miss your hugs
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I miss your eyes
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I miss your coffee
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I miss your shit for a car
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I miss your
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How Can I Am.
Hey, You-
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You sit high on your pedestal of metaphors and similes
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You say I can’t write for shit,
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hurting.
easy come, easy go
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all of you
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you think you know
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just what you do
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but you don't
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i long to
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for all poets and writers.
Red, as the deepest rose in a bloom of spring
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like the blood that runs through my being
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like the
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one.
We are such opposites, you and I
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Yet somehow we've woven ourselves into this web
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You are a tsuna
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A Stained White
Mamma left the sheets unfolded and the bed stained
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A key hole full of answers
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For a more than lo
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muddy hands.
You and only you know who I am.
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When you touch me with your muddy hands.
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I am a piece of flesh,
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incomplete.
I'm sorry I'm not as great an artist
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And I'm sorry I don't drink all that much
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I'm sorry I'm not
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