Untitled

by ghoststories

my tongue like

scarabs

each word spreads the disease

like too young lovers

in picture perfect

syncronicity

hidden between soiled sheets

you were the cure

for a blind man

chasing a blind dream

Read 2 comments
thank you, i really appreciated your comment.
it means i am jealous of writers who can organize their thoughts, eloquently express them and produce beautiful pieces. i feel that i have some decent ideas but can never nail them down as i'd like. and it's fucking frustrating sometimes, mostly because i am considering majoring in creative writing and i am expecting a rejection.