Fact of fiction a ridiculous addiction.
Saw her shine and made her my shrine
Made up an ego an image too
With pics and vocal t’was easy to do.
In everyway she made my day
Pushed me on and stayed to play.
With each step forward I’d think of her
Dressed in all kinds with pics of bluured.
Suppose it was destine
To fall into the sand
And on the floor
My head in my hands.
Stupidly made up
And pretend true
Me wanting you.
Everything I’ve done
Its been with new desired belief
That I could create my own character
To make you to want me.
So I’ve got my own show
Two in fact
And I lost about a stone
And aspire a 6 pack.
Wring for Sky is pretty fly
And competition give away’s
Are the tip of the high.
Vocab, fashion, extend blog posts
Poems of writings
You think it’s a joke?
I cant remember before
What I did to fill the time
But thinking about you
Is all daytime high.
Sixty minutes of fame, building up from moths of insane
Ridiculous courting, *shakes head in shame*
I don’t think I’ve ever tried, or wanted as much
Something someone, with soft skin to touch.
What do I do now, say farewell take a bow
Unfollow asa and find solace somehow?
Nothing said between us, but you weren’t that keen
Couldn’t drag my eyes away as I saw your message on the screen.
The post gig is probably dead
And writing more lines wont get you closer to my bed
Do I actually give up after all this time?
Cant read this again, or I’ll probably cry.