Caricamento in corso...

Compulsion Crush

I write letters to her but I never deliver,
obsessed at the fact that her life seems so bitter,
I’m not wither, but hoping one day I’ll meet her,
before winter.
 
She smiles at the fact that I think we’re all sinners,
slowly driving me insane, never using the blinkers,
treacherous, even though her smile is so simple,
so judgmental like mirrors.
Altre opere di Intraloper...



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