(no subject)

[mickspick]

Your words are stone

Weighing, drowning whatever intention you have

As dramatic as a battle between Capulet and Montague

Our like-love-situation has drained me of whatever will I had to change you

All I craved

Was to feel your butterscotch fingers

Sliding across my stomach

To send me to a place where “bad timing” was just a phrase

And the future was an ethereal theory

But circumstance is a terrorist that no one is safe from

And my lips have never had a good memory...