Of Kumquats and Coffee...
I’m l i v i n g for this cigarette,
and d y i n g for some morphine.
-Peter ♥
P.S. There’s a bit of reasoning behind the title. Not that I’m going to tell you… fuckers.
You p o u r e d onto my l i f e ,
like a summer rain.
And washed me clean,
of every i n f e c t i n g ruse
that had, once,
m a r t y r e d itself for me.
Me.
And my s a n i t y ’ s affliction.
I am free of the
b a l l a n d c h a i n s
of my former self’s mistakes,
and the rope-bound
s o r r o w
of past pretenses.
They all tell me that
you’ll b r e a k my h e a r t .
I’m blind to your arrogance.
I’m just another…
p r o j e c t .
I won’t believe them,
not their p a r a k e e t c a u s e r i e .
Maybe,
if I’d see it…
but still,
no p r o m i s e s .
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