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childofchangePoems
You sink me  deeper        into the blackest parts of the ocean you are  one word answers    half-hearted devotion         You **** me with your words     please stop speaking now                              I mean... tell me what you want to tell me     not what I want to hear.                 Or.. If you're convinced it's that easy to win me over...    then whisper it in my ear. Tell me how you hate me for half the things I say to you Then call me at 5 am when reality catches up to you When sheets are stripped   sublime stories all told     you've worn out your welcome      useless                    fool's gold   These once vacant shoulders now seem pretty cold. But you get what you crave: your image won't fold. Your decisions of stupidity can never truly compare To your decisions of cupidity: deep, bold and rare When the moon wins the battle against heavy eyes,     On the thundering instance that keeps you inside         You'll wander to the back burner, right where I reside to give me the remainder,   which I'll take,   with my hands tied // I hope you take it personal, I hope you blindly reach And find out you're the worst of all None of this is a figure of speech.
0
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
//realize
You sink me  deeper        into the blackest parts of the ocean you are  one word answers    half-hearted devotion         You **** me with your words     please stop speaking now                              I mean... tell me what you want to tell me     not what I want to hear.                 Or.. If you're convinced it's that easy to win me over...    then whisper it in my ear. Tell me how you hate me for half the things I say to you Then call me at 5 am when reality catches up to you When sheets are stripped   sublime stories all told     you've worn out your welcome      useless                    fool's gold   These once vacant shoulders now seem pretty cold. But you get what you crave: your image won't fold. Your decisions of stupidity can never truly compare To your decisions of cupidity: deep, bold and rare When the moon wins the battle against heavy eyes,     On the thundering instance that keeps you inside         You'll wander to the back burner, right where I reside to give me the remainder,   which I'll take,   with my hands tied // I hope you take it personal, I hope you blindly reach And find out you're the worst of all None of this is a figure of speech.
childofchange
Written by
childofchange
26/F
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
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