*** with coffee,
Love with tarts.
Switch is good but just with lust.
Truth with misery,
Death with hate.
Obvious truth soon you'll see,
You're just a ******* like me.
Dont you love denial,
Even if it's not your own?
In the midst of all ur anguish,
You cant face the facts.

When I think of you I think of spontaneous poems

Because when I think of you
I think of how god ****** artsy you are
and how quiet
and how gentle
and how intelligent
and articulate you are
and how you love coffee
and books
and how
you get my undivided attention
with those eyes

And I can't help but write poems
about that kinda ****

I havent stopped saying your name,
Its always patiently waiting on the edge of my lips
and it stings most nights
when i lay under my pillow
trying to find a way to fish you back out of it.
your name reminds me of the bites on my neck
although these dont feel as good
and my duvet still smells like you
that versaace scent.
i havent moved a single thing in my room since the day you left
my window is still wide open
its about 40 degrees out.
i think i forgot the feeling of warmth
something you always brought to me.
your clothes are still on my bed
i always wonder if you want them back

you were never part of my plan
you werent meant to come into my life
yet you still managed to shatter my heart.