The ghost of your love lingers in the shadows of my heart, haunting my every thought.
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Lover's Remorse
iii.
I hope she floats
from cloud to cloud;
tells the Devil—out loud—
how she damned you
to the garden of quiet sorrow;
the only reachable sanctuary
after a long night of
sweet smelling rain.
I hope she leaves
in the dead of night
wearing your cologne
with her pockets full
of your good scented intentions.
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It was April and she was the saddest thing under the sun.
Khush Bakht via wordedarchive
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will i always be this angry?
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My heart cannot contain the love I have for you
It is spilling out into my soul
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