Broken laugh
My shattered heart
My lonely sins
My taste to forget.
Going for more
Dying alone
Going for little
Your face, ethereal.
Misery loves my body
He finds himself
Tangled in my head
Around my blind eyes
Around my white skin
Around my purple lips
Around my grave.
YOU ARE READING
mortem
PoetryIf it wouldn't be enough I'd feel pages with my tears, burn desires with my flames and tear all apart with no regrets.
