something pains me deep in my stomach
quite pathetic and deeply ironic
life seems endless and i feel nothing
the problem is your presence is haunting
every waking moment i feel heavy
winter's coming and my blanket is empty
nothing but your smell and memory
lingers here and keeps me so lonely
maybe someday you shall recover
from your senses and you'd discover
it's been me that you've been missing
ease my pain with your endless kissing
inside me there's no heart that's beating
just a shell that keeps on forgetting
i don't need a purpose for breathing
until the first and last of our meeting
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My writings and poems
I don't think i'm a good writer. I don't even think I'm good at anything, and if you want to waste your time reading these so called 'poems' go right ahead. I'm just sorry they're not as great as I would like them to be.
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