Its much to hot for you here
Im sorry for that
you have to long to wait
till you'll bring back the cold
i love you
there is no doubt there
but i hate you when you leave
take me away
i feel the sun
beating down its hatred
i feel this rough paper
boiling hot in this arid day
i feel my pocket
empty
i cant trust myself with it
not in this heat
i look over this almost stagnent pond
this is what ive become
a wanderless vagabond
never letting go of the past
(she's not coming back)
saying i have to write
these verses that i hate
so i know that someones reading
even if its something
i didnt want to write
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 9:07 PM UTC
Its much to hot for you here
Im sorry for that
you have to long to wait
till you'll bring back the cold
i love you
there is no doubt there
but i hate you when you leave
take me away
i feel the sun
beating down its hatred
i feel this rough paper
boiling hot in this arid day
i feel my pocket
empty
i cant trust myself with it
not in this heat
i look over this almost stagnent pond
this is what ive become
a wanderless vagabond
never letting go of the past
(she's not coming back)
saying i have to write
these verses that i hate
so i know that someones reading
even if its something
i didnt want to write
