demons demons
paint my nails!
bite it off
when all else fails!
slipped into hell + ran away home
whats under your bed when you're all alone?
***** socks and
soured thoughts ~
had a garden
(let it rot)
prayed to God my man would wake
her soul and Gucci bag to take
surfing in my Prada's
running in my Louis's
Giving second chances
Like ya never even knew me
Tigers in the living room,
go on ask whats up!
clawing up my velvet couch
Kiss and patch it up!
melt my brain n lick it up
I write about him daily
chew it up and spit it out
been thinking bout you lately
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 7:11 PM UTC
I have cried more times this January than I did in 2017 collectively
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 6:51 PM UTC
My head feels like it’s holding a $100,00 vase that weighs 100 pounds with my slippery butter fingers and I haven’t been to the gym in weeks and my arms are getting tired
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 5:24 PM UTC
And if Were being honest I could build an empire from all the red flags you've tossed my way. I always catch them and tuck them away - Hand dye them and stitch them new names, new patterns, they're anything but wrong.
You never felt wrong
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 12:06 AM UTC
daze
smooch
custard
sauce
cocktail
soup
pie
****
blood clot
dewy
wanderlust
blaming things on "society"
lima bean
I could throw up
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 12:41 AM UTC
everyone deserves forgiveness - but I thank every star in the sky you slammed the door shut on my fingers
( they told me she was toxic )
and I wrapped them up but I still would have let you back in,
played any song you liked honestly.
( and you didn't deserve that kind of generosity )
she moved to that island she always talked about and sent me a letter this morning that I didn't have the courage to read. If she asked me to knit her one more **** sweater for the windy nights I thought I'd *****
( freeze )
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 12:55 AM UTC
I cannot write if I am not in love and it is so **** annoying.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 12:30 AM UTC
she liked to steal old matches
her soul drenched in Santal
thoughts deeper than the canyons,
slurred in her sozzled calls
with rose gold colored eyes,
she grabs your rusty match tin
but if you hand your heart to her
you won't see that again
she hides in her rose bathtub
silk bathrobe, as expected
builds castles made of bubbles
and hearts that she's neglected
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 1:20 PM UTC