Mays drunk dream
why can't I feel you in and out of me. I see you in my head, I hear you breath in an sigh. My only question is why, why can't I feel the love that writes your face Why cant I feel the static between each kiss?
And so I dip and weave the needle in my leg. Cut throat that's my mission. And plenty of other shit you can't even begin to in vision.
I'll take those pills and with a smile. I'll take that blade and with a smirk.
I guess its because I'm sick inside.
And all I want is for you to loath me. Come one lets hate me.
The needle is in me and so are you. I can see the colors blur togather. It it is soooo beautiful. But, it doesn't feel beautiful. So Ill seranade on high.
you take a step back. I am bound and tethered.
Handcuffed I am to your heart.
Loosly mouthed I am.
tightly mounted I am.
blue eyes red tears
Mays drunk dream has got me in tears
So come on,
Let's rape me.
Rape me numb of all feelings. I am left completly in ruins.
Rape me of my absense
Rape me of my thoughts
Come on if you will come on if you can
Come on and loathe me
andrea miles's Other Poems
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(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(10 February 1898 – 14 August 1956)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(10 February 1970-)
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