Nights filled with smoke
endless hours
spent
tidying up; leftover notes
on the bedroom floor
there is
something more
than a half-minded thought,
i'd forgotten you..
the ways you haunt.
You flaunt it; your love
The boundries we've become.
Our words will always echo
but never
leave our tongue.
Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 5:39 PM UTC
Nights filled with smoke
endless hours
spent
tidying up; leftover notes
on the bedroom floor
there is
something more
than a half-minded thought,
i'd forgotten you..
the ways you haunt.
You flaunt it; your love
The boundries we've become.
Our words will always echo
but never
leave our tongue.
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