I have a habit of drowning in his eyes.
The sound of his voice makes me ears bleed,
his hands were made from the finest silk,
he taught me how to find dark in the sunshine―
oh, I apologize.
I forgot to introduce myself.
My name is Destiny,
I can say 10, 010 words in ten minutes,
and I am filled with bad habits―
Also I have tendency to switch
languages in der Mitte ein sentence.
Where was I?
when he said goodbye, I smelled smoke;
my arms tingled as I watched him walk away,
This poem glares at me as I continue to not write it;
the books glare at me as I continue to not read them.
They’re right―I am trash.
(I swear, I will read three hundred books tonight,
because sunset is never coming).
I knew a boy named Reid.
He once told me that he swan from London
to see me―but he can’t swim.
I wonder if there are days the people of London
are still trying to escape the smog of the past―hm.
Either way, Reid is still a fucking dumbass,
and when speaks, he needs to be slapped.
I swear, I handled the situation well.
I take a quiet breath of anger,
watching the children play gleefully under
the lonely sky.
my name is Destiny,
I have a habit of drowning in his eyes,
and Reid has a habit of drowning in the ocean
"The Bad Habits of a Nervous Teenager" by (DS