sometimes i think 2am is the only time to convey my message effectively
when i'm dizzy from the exhaustion and the wine
when i'm in bed and i suddenly have to cope with the smoldering remnants of my home
nineteen miles away is the beach and the bed i miss so much
but when i drive there now all the words i once had fled my mind
i want to see that exit again but the numbers melt together
i'm afraid of being cold
i can't sleep anymore
i can't find my way home anymore
there was so much smoke
and when it cleared
i realized i couldn't touch you anymore
YOU ARE READING
MASOCHISM
Poetryan uncensored synposis of the thoughts and experiences belonging to a young tired masochist. I quit writing for a while but sometimes I feel I need to write more than I need a cigarette.
