3 January 2013
My heart is something that breaks apart at the sheer utterance of your name, and heaven forbid there is no chance to hide my face from the shame.
There's a churning in my stomach, no ailment can quell. Choking down liquor just makes me sicker, and drugs are becoming a bore.
Nothing can rid me, scrub from my mind, your hands on my waist, you lips on mine.
I wish I'd been prepared, I wish I had seen, just how much you'd get to me.
Foresee • Opuss № I