SOL: Ceasefire

She’s got my emotions by the throat and
Dammit, this is a stick-up
I gave her everything, she doled out
Pure rage, unadulterated passion
Everything she gives in irrational proportions
Addiction looks better when it
Involves her body covered with a thin sheet
Self-serving professions always
Play mellifluously when they are
Coming from her accented mouth
I pray to God to strike her down
With an illness, to shake this
Curse she has levied on my soul
He laughs, knowing I would be the one
To nurse her health back

3AM Thoughts // AKA “I Picked A Fistful Of Daises To Play The Odds & All Of Them Told Me You Were Long Gone.”

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