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She loves the rain, I love the pain.
She loves the rain,
I love the pain.
She's a shooting star,
I'm a dying light.
My messiah is broken,
clay made from sand,
cast away by the waves,
of death's own might.
She likes to dance,
I only crawl,
hide in the cracks,
of the pain I suffer.
The stars are black,
hope that melts,
just like chocolate,
take my light away.
She likes to sing,
I barely hum.
She's all so pretty,
I'm empty inside.
My pain keeps on,
a ghost my memories.
Porcelain lights,
break daily in my mind.
She likes to heal,
I crave the darkness.
Though I do see her,
I can't be like her.
© dats_poetry
I love the pain.
She's a shooting star,
I'm a dying light.
My messiah is broken,
clay made from sand,
cast away by the waves,
of death's own might.
She likes to dance,
I only crawl,
hide in the cracks,
of the pain I suffer.
The stars are black,
hope that melts,
just like chocolate,
take my light away.
She likes to sing,
I barely hum.
She's all so pretty,
I'm empty inside.
My pain keeps on,
a ghost my memories.
Porcelain lights,
break daily in my mind.
She likes to heal,
I crave the darkness.
Though I do see her,
I can't be like her.
© dats_poetry
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