Feb 2018
my pillow is smudged with bleach,
from your painted cheeks.
as are my shoulders,
as are my sheets.
my bed reeks of you,
and all the words you speak.
and with every stay, every week,
the scent seems to stick,
and seep deeper while we sleep.
from your painted cheeks.
as are my shoulders,
as are my sheets.
my bed reeks of you,
and all the words you speak.
and with every stay, every week,
the scent seems to stick,
and seep deeper while we sleep.
almost sickly, definitely sweet.
your scent is exciting, unsettling, but not quite bleak.
take some 2 liners, world. i know they're not good.
your scent is exciting, unsettling, but not quite bleak.
take some 2 liners, world. i know they're not good.
