You taste like damage
Vodka and cigarettes
Mixed with bitter regrets
Your eyes are the shadows of my demons
But even they know better reasoning
At least they know the difference of falling
And having doubts of the truths you were lying
Your comfort is too delicate
As if you’ll break me with a single touch
You did that by building it up
Then knocking it down
Honest and direct words. My kind of poetry.
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