addictions
by Lesley Denning
her fingers smell of cigarettes
her breath it reeks of booze
her bones are weak
she has no hope
one more restless soul
she can't beleive it's got this bad
she can't remember when
there was a time she never cried
a time where love began
when no ones there to help you through
immortality's all you see
grim reapers lurking at your door
but no ones home to see him in
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Email: gothiclove16@yahoo.com
