A cigarette burns at 400 degrees Celsius
just like my love that burns for you
your touch is as infecting as the smoke
but I depend on it so much
I know the end result
but I can't help but come to you time and time again.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of the Dead-Minded
PoetryPoems of the past, present, possible future. Who knows when your only life is hell? This is just a collection of stuff that pops into my head throughout the day so.. I hope you like it.....
