You scorch my skin
comfortable warmth
till I'm burning,
I pull away
escaping.
But soon I am cold
once again.
-years ago, late one night
YOU ARE READING
My Only Language is Words
Random"It played out so perfectly, so full, so wonderous... but then I woke up". ~~~~ "The blade of imagination is a force to be reckoned with"~~~~ Somewhat insignificant rambles~ Also called "poetry" I suppose
