You were a bottle of venom,
And way worse than drugs or liquor,
You had the upper hand,
Being half-angel, half-demon,
And in those few hours we spent,
And all those remarks you made, that I resent,
I wouldn’t trade those times for a thing,
I'd go back to then in a heartbeat.
Because I miss those remarks,
Now that there's no heartbeat left,
And I rue all those days I overslept,
And forgot to answer your calls,
And now I'm trapped inside these walls,
And you rest six feet deep under the soil,
I miss that bottle of venom, trapped inside a troubled boy.
YOU ARE READING
Crying Skies, Rain And Discarded Memories
Poetrymidnight silk flows from her head and a stormy sea lies in her eyes magic flows every time she speaks a crimson silence dancing across her lips