Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2019
My precious needle,
shoot your empty promises
into my veins.
Make me believe
in your false realities.
Just hope that Iā€™m not
addicted to your words.
For once your supply
is gone, I will be withdrawn
and crash.
Av
Written by
Av  20/F
(20/F)   
778
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems