i've always told you that
i wanted to kiss death
and know all its secrets
so nobody would ever hurt me again.
oh but my dear,
i didn't want you to become a brand new city;
i was being a dreamer,
i'm never realistic.
i didn't want you to
burn your wrists,
drink galaxies,
and sleep with needy skeletons.
i know i was being selfish,
i was consumed by
my own thoughts and wishes.
now you've became nothing
but
a
sad
kiss.
YOU ARE READING
MESS » poetry.
Poetrymy hands write down words my brain can't contain anymore. [highest rankings omfg: #75 in poetry / #358 in random]