Your soul the blackest deepest black there is.
Blacker then the night sky with no fire-y ***** of light.
Thats black, like blacker then carbon (yes the dinosaur stuff),
Blacker the the spots on a dog or the skin of a polar bear.
Black like the bottom of your running shoes.
Blacker the the iris of my muddy eyes you used to love.
Black thats what it is nothing else just black.
After all the saying goes black is the color of my true loves hair (soul).
Your little black dress is your soul you don't need any channel.
Black.
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 7:14 PM UTC
You dont care.
Choosing to laugh.
Everyday you go online and make fun of me.
HTML code replaced your love.
I nurture you back to health.
But you ignored me in favor for a racist group of runners.
You can add up your solutions and find only one.
By its very definition Alcohol is a solution in chemistry.
I am not though GEOFF has never been a solution.
But Alcohol and Hydrogen-Thulium-Iodine(HTML) is
Maybe if you tore apart my elements like you tore apart my heart then Geoff would become a solution.
Love Geranium-Oxygen-Fluerian-Fluerian (Geoff)
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 10:04 PM UTC
I hate to run.
When I think of it I think of you.
And to be honest that makes me sick.
You run over my heart daily.
Just to get hit yourself.
I was there for you everyday and you still ran.
Ran from me. From our dogs. And everything we had.
And when I confront you, you just laugh and say I dont care.
Then you head out for a run. Run. Run. Run.
Running through my torn up heart.
Your shoes have left scars that harrings themself can not heel.
So when say I hate running. I mean it.
And once you head into the rain anyways.
Leaving me to write this poem.
Goodbye my myjestic runner. Run to the wind where you once came from.
-Love Geoff you're with the horses now.
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 5:31 PM UTC