I didn't understand but I never questioned it.
Instead I session'd it with three times the rebounded therapy that it took to get you off my mind.
I got furious, dead flowers growing in my lungs, tongues that tasted so bitter, maybe that's why they call the sweet things, somewhat sour, cause I spit you out.
Did you forget the things I told you? You started to drown me out, and by now, I was already flooding, messed with my head.
Now what's inside of me is gone, you lead a good man on to dress in a suit that was destined to be put to rest.
Cheers to a new garden.
YOU ARE READING
Roses In The Sun
PoetryA book dedicated to the thoughts that lie beneath the surface of all that I am, all that I will be, and all that I hope to become. A book dedicated to the outcasts, to those who've felt invisible, to those who want to read and fall in love with the...
