Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2015
You called me pretty
like it was the only thing that mattered,
whispered it through the holes in my bones,
you thought it would fill me up, make me whole.

But its 2 in the morning and the lights are dim;
Baby, it's 2 in the morning, you're right beside me
but I'm thinking of him.
Thushena
Written by
Thushena
301
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems