Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2018
The words that existed my mouth were nothing like poetry,
Doused in cheap liquor and a series of muttered sighs,
These words were not love,
They weren't even lust,
They were nothing more than the feeling of emptiness coupled with your embrace,
An action that failed to feel ***** as it once did,
But still managed to reek of desperation,
This was not poetry,
And we a far from art.
Written by
Belle Spiese
212
   Fawn and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems