I would be friend with Baudelaire
Because only him cause understand my misère
When we drink we write better
And when we are sad we sink deeper
So deep that you can't feel the mud in your toes
Or the thorns coming through your bones
Spiders and worms crawling unashamed
In your veins, in your eyes, in your pains
Spreading in your body
Like the alcohol envy
All your thoughts
All your doubts
'Cause when you touch the ground
Hell is not far behind
YOU ARE READING
Collection of poems - " 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 ".
PoetryWelcome to my collection of poems, a world where feelings are turned into letters and emotions into rhymes.
