You.
You took my eyes.
Attached them to a line
Straight in-front of your face.
So it doesn't matter where I look,
Or what I'm trying to do,
All I can ever see is your ******* face.
You.
You took my gravity.
I dropped from the sky
At the bottom was a mattress
Crafted from the finest memory foam.
Sheets already covered in your hairs,
Pillows already smelling of your perfume.
You.
You took my heart.
Which may sound quite romantic,
But I'm talking several broken ribs,
I'm talking a gaping hole in my chest
That anyone at all could look into
And see the weirdest depths of my soul.
Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 4:26 PM UTC
You.
You took my eyes.
Attached them to a line
Straight in-front of your face.
So it doesn't matter where I look,
Or what I'm trying to do,
All I can ever see is your ******* face.
You.
You took my gravity.
I dropped from the sky
At the bottom was a mattress
Crafted from the finest memory foam.
Sheets already covered in your hairs,
Pillows already smelling of your perfume.
You.
You took my heart.
Which may sound quite romantic,
But I'm talking several broken ribs,
I'm talking a gaping hole in my chest
That anyone at all could look into
And see the weirdest depths of my soul.
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