You could say that burning vodka is reminiscent of fiery red or icy blue that scars your throat
Yet as it fills my skull with burning silence,
A pale lavender is trapped behind my eyelids
As such my heart turns violet,
For I can not match such a shade,
And so I descend into screaming purple insanity,
This color not my own.
CITEȘTI
Poetry for dumb bitches
PoezieI'm going to write about rain now. Please don't read this it won't be any good.
