The Fix Poem by one who waits
The Fix
Arms and bare skin
Fingers interlace
Hands to face
A trace of strained pleasure
Tangled treasure
Simultaneous release
And a crease in the forehead eyes
Her eyes
Twisted dark hair ringlets
Fall upon me gently
As the breeze carries me away
She is a fix
Like heroin at night
Addictive and addicting
She fills a need
I bleed
Sickened
Hurt
Lost
Little by little
Time stands still
You may find yourself
Rollin’ down that hill
It’s ok friend, it’s Ok
We all find ourselves one day
I like this one. women can really Get you like that. Take a look At one of my new ones called, Boy to a man.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 9:58:01 PM # 1.0.0.1119
funny! lol x Yes it is.rofl a little up and down!