Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2019
His words are kerosene
But his touch is my personal nicotine
One moment it seems like a dream
In the next, I am struggling to breathe

I know I'm decaying inside
But wouldn't it be better to die in the light
Better than my gaze resting on the empty spot in my bed
Broken promises swirling in my head

The illusion of everlasting love
The chaotic pendulum
Is something to behold.
But would it really be better if I was alone?
Stephanie Marasco
Written by
Stephanie Marasco  21
(21)   
263
   Fawn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems