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Women are beautiful. But some are made of hell.

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Beautiful Hell Woman

Bagwalas

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

I gave her address to my soul. Ans she fucked the mailman.
TONY COBLE

Address Herself Mail Man Soul
Her memory still lingers, like a cockroach in my heart.
TONY COBLE

Heart Herself Memories
This heart. It’s broke. I don’t want it anymore.
TONY COBLE

Broken Heart Heart Myself
With her, the world becomes art.
TONY COBLE

Art Herself World
She’s like a jar of butterflies, waiting to be opened.
TONY COBLE

Butterfly Herself Open Wait
Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes, it’s just poetry.
TONY COBLE

Poetry Silence Word
She was an artist on top of me, and soaked my sheets with poetry.
TONY COBLE

Artist Myself Poetry Sex
He opened her cages, and freed the things inside.
TONY COBLE

Cage Freedom Myself Open
We search for meaning. And destroy it.
TONY COBLE

Destroy Meaning Philosophy Search
It’s funny how love fades, and they become more than a poem about yesterday.
TONY COBLE

Fade Love Past Poem
Break me. Until there’s nothing left and I’ll be free.
TONY COBLE

Break Freedom Myself
Sometimes I wonder if these rain soaked shoes will get me home.
TONY COBLE

Home Myself Rain Shoes Time Wonder
She was only a collection of flaws and she was beautiful.
TONY COBLE

Beautiful Collection Flaw Herself
She was a broken sky, where stars never shine and butterflies die.
TONY COBLE

Break Butterfly Death Shine Sky
She’s like turning on the radio and hearing a brand new song.
TONY COBLE

Brand Herself Music Radio Song
There’s this thing that hurts inside me all the time. Because I know what’s coming.
TONY COBLE

Hurt Myself Time

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