I will put chaos into words and keep him there.
He would like to introduce himself.
He's a good time.
A misunderstanding.
A plea.
A red flag.
He'll call you tomorrow.
Nothing has been the same since the devil on his shoulder reached out it's hand and asked his angel to dance. See the darkness leaking into him from the cracks. He cannot contain it. He cannot contain his life. He's demons though quiet. They swell in him like wounds. No matter how many times he tried to drown them it meets the same fate, because they know how to swim.
So he writes poetry. Because writers my love they don't cry, they bleed on paper. A hollow soul seated at an empty table. Desiring things that will destroy him in the end.
Her touch is poetry he wants to write. (They're not good for each other) Such a soft and messy thing no one knows how to take care of.
Oh how cruel it is to want to love so much,
- But feeling chaos is too intoxicating to ignore... // ~ Hail
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Tired.
PoetryTired. /tʌɪəd/[adjective] 1.In need of sleep or rest; weary 2.Bored or impatient with. A Collection Of Poetry, Deep Thoughts And Short Stories By Yours Truly Highest In Rankings : Trending Mythology Poetrycollection Philosophy Poem Shakespeare...
