Love Poetry Room

In this grave I rot Decrepit thoughts Eat away at my flesh Like maggots My soul incased In plastic Cause the conception of the flesh Ran this factory And produced rotten fruit To pressure the mental Into a greater experimental State of g…

Worlds clashing defeat of the last assassin light's, screaming at the world flashing, fashion some may call it for there's a passion for lost lives from people who lost all ties within themselves bell rings, the choir sings humanity detached from li…

You say that you “love me” …but I wish you would love…me Not my skin, not my lips, not the dimples on my cheeks Not my hair or the way that it blows in the wind Not my height, not my weight, not my “model physique” See, it seems that you are…