There she is.
The one with the tinged cilium and secretive eyes.
Blank face but I can tell inside that skull of yours are thoughts that don't rest.
I muse regularly if those chapped lips of yours have ever turned up.
Habitually, my mind has been inquisitive of you.
Opulent, Riveting, Alchemistic
"Pretty girl what is roaming inside your colourful head?"
"Sad anamnesis"
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this is like the second part to the "happy smiles hiding sad thoughts"
the book i am writing is based of two characters and these both poems ?
i guess you could say are representatives of how those two characters view each other in a way i suppose
YOU ARE READING
Scrabbles
Poetrymatchsticks only go to waste when they are lit and once they are lit their lives are slowly being smothered just like humans sometimes i write nice and sometimes i don't all depends on my head
