| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
Dependence
Stay
You say
Not used to not being bruised
Are you?
Beat me
On the ground I fall
You scream
While for a second
I stall
I'm colder and I shudder
At imaginary thorns of roses though
Nothing can make me hurt
You, want me to keep unspoken promises
True so you cry
Till I make you drop and kiss the dirt.