Poems from executioner
Haunted houses, haunted memories, sad souls
Bottles of liqour were never enough for me to forget the way you tasted. The smoke constantly reminds me the shade of your eyes. I look at...
Your life sucks. You suck. Keep on living anyway.
And his skinny fingers trailed across the canvas, painted the love we once had.
Freedom is a free flow of everything but not letting anyone drown.