passion
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It all started so simple and sweet, Phone calls and text message every day of the week Late trips down by the riverside, where we would count the stars on those moonlit nights, our feet swaying in the water as we talked about life, Netflix and chill as we connected on something real I was…
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I don’t want true love, but love that lies, Cross my heart, and hope to die What’s a lover but just another bad trip to make you agonize, Why seek the day when all you know is the night, Why look for an emotional touch, that’s not enough Just give me a physical rush, Feed…
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Lately I, Smile, reminiscing out my window Of cinnamon like Summers, sweet Visions of how cute it was to watch your hair flow when the wind would blow, Each strand carelessly in the breeze As you kissed me slowly down by the riverside, It was “Love” you supplied to me, A feeling I never thought…
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Lick the ink of my pen And Spit poetry slow into the canvas of my skin, Take control, make me feel it deep into my vein, work me with those lips of Novocaine…
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Love is a war that can leave its scars, those who survive the battle are awarded a Purple heart.