• Othello

Not Quite Myself

So I am not quite myself when I have time to sit on that shelf by myself unpealing my heart in front of you, nothing to do inside my head, lying in bed but the wall goes up without your touch I am dead, like that baby just born unto the world that doesn’t know human feel, my heart becomes unpeeled your heart is like steel, the romantic is dead so I crawl inside his head like a womb and alone it’s a tomb, I thought it was just a room until you stepped into my life, I became consumed, your breath, your voice, your hair, your life, your smile, your touch, it’s become all too much .


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