I've broken and fallen. My petals
they've shed.
I'm infamously fragile
since you ******** with my head.
Fragile,
like a wilted rose you,
used me, you
abused me, left me
wilted in the dust.
You may see my lies,
but can you hear my siren cries;
those hiding beneath
my smile?
I'm infamously fragile,
though stable
I may seem.
Editors note: Many of these poems come without a date; however most of these aren't too recent. Alot of this stuff to start my journal is older, and very scrambled date-wise. It all depends on which book I grabbed first and when. I apologize for the inconvenience.
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Diary of the Midnight Rider
Only a meager glimpse into the wanderings of my mind, and the works that such wanderings create when written with a pen.
Editors note: Many of these poems, and thoughts, come without a date; however most of these aren't too recent. Alot of this st
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Toga IV
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