Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2016
Lost my best friend now I hang out with demons.

Tramadol floating in Bacardi , *** to feel alive but I see death in my *****.

Make my bed and lie in it, invisible stains on the sheets, they can't see that I'm bleeding.

Hell's Kitchen, a servant and chef for lucifer, all these demons I'm feeding.

This might be contagious, please stop reading.
Written by
Pluck
  916
     ---, uzzi obinna, Lu Lu, Blueboyfly, --- and 2 others
Please log in to view and add comments on poems