Poems from ParkingLotPoet
I don't mean to, but the worst part is, I can't stop, and when I think hard enough, I think I don't want to. I know that when I step back...
I sit and wait, and cry and bleed
I scratch and scrape and cut my skin
I write the words that flood my dreams
Though I never stop drowning...
At what point did I realize your smile was worth more than I could afford
At what point were my intentions in your best interest
At what...
Her name was Katelyn.
She was a short, boyish girl. Her hair was blonde and her eyes were blue. Her hands were feminine, if anything about...
What's funny is the overwhelming fear
That'll I'll never call you "my dear"
I see you three days a week
And each time, I can hardly speak...