A poem I wrote for you
Lays torn into shredded little pieces
A pile of fragmented sentiments
Left over from a time when I gave a ****
When I believed in you
When a whisper from you
Breathed hope into this
Empty tank heart of mine
Now all I see is the abstract
Of broken promises
And the left over optimism
Of a fool hearted girl
Who wanted to bathe in
Every one of your empty dreams
You speak of deserts
Well you create them
You are my deadlands
A place where everything goes to die
You who I love with every breath
Why do you take everything from me?
My love, my hope, my dreams, and desire
You **** everything good in me.
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 6:06 PM UTC
A poem I wrote for you
Lays torn into shredded little pieces
A pile of fragmented sentiments
Left over from a time when I gave a ****
When I believed in you
When a whisper from you
Breathed hope into this
Empty tank heart of mine
Now all I see is the abstract
Of broken promises
And the left over optimism
Of a fool hearted girl
Who wanted to bathe in
Every one of your empty dreams
You speak of deserts
Well you create them
You are my deadlands
A place where everything goes to die
You who I love with every breath
Why do you take everything from me?
My love, my hope, my dreams, and desire
You **** everything good in me.
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