Heated UpA Poem by CoveredInLies
Lines rehearsed
Fall at our feet Fists balled Anger and heat The first swing misses The top of my head The second keeps me wishing That both of us were dead The anger The passion The raw emotion makes me Sick I can not take anymore The phone in my hand The sirens as they pull up. The handcuffs around your wrists You hate me for this For having enough of it For standing up for myself I hate myself too Losing my grip On you
© 2012 CoveredInLies |
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CoveredInLiesAgawam, MAAboutI am young. Twenty one to be exact. Most of the time I feel like I am too young to know what I do. Too inexperienced to handle it. Other times I feel as if I am too old to act the way I do. I am stuc.. more..Writing
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