My Heroin, My Heart
anna
12 Jul, 2014 06:34 PMAn outrageous fear of the unorthodox, the odd, the unknown pieces apart. A poor decision defines the depth, My heroin, my heart. An imperfect imperfection implies, the impulsive, and unproductive. A selfish addiction is my wounded affection, the result of living inactive. An unwanted preoccupation, the scarlet ribbon around my arm. A patterned prediction purifies, making clean my harmless harm. An anger that ages on the arches of arrows, the dirt under my nails never washes away. A better bluff belittles beyond comprehension, and the pallet is painfully plain grey. An inner secret sickens me, the priceless pennies, portrayed the part. A hurtful hatred, I pick my pride, My heroin, my heart.
15065
0 Post a Comment
Comments
Post a Comment