Sunday mornings
a bed that isnt mine
i wake up and
see those eyes
arms around my waist
my hands in his hair
it's almost noon
but I dont care
Now it's almost three , and we both have work
long *** days
to be the kitchen's clerk
but I wont get to see you until next week
so these Sunday mornings are my peak
but I can't wait for the day
that these
Sunday mornings
in a bed that is mine
I wake up and
see those eyes
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 8:40 PM UTC
Sometimes I make things to hard,
sometimes I just want to be dead.
Sometimes I think I'm really smart,
sometimes I use my double horned head.
Sometimes God deals me a bad card,
sometimes I lie down with the devil in my bed.
Sometimes man some times...
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
I sit at a kitchen table
That does not belong to me
And I stare into this glass of dark liquid
It fizzes at the top
Like a nice childhood memory
But the smell, reminds me of those days
That can be so contradicting
Music, laughs, and pictures are all taken place
With light heads and impaired balance.
So I keep taking drinks , but my glass doesn't empty
My conscience doesn't care
Just like his
I tell myself these are two different situations
But it feels all the same.
This dark liquid destroyed me
So why did I give in
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 11:30 PM UTC
It's hard to mourn
The loss of my father
When he's still alive
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC