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She was an artist on top of me, and soaked my sheets with poetry.

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Artist Myself Poetry Sex

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

Late nights. Poetry. Cigarettes. and a wounded heart, trying to forget you.
TONY COBLE

Forget Heart Night Poetry Try Wound Yourself
She was simple. Like a poem, and always dressed in sunshine.
TONY COBLE

Herself Poem Simplicity Sunshine
There’s this thing that hurts inside me all the time. Because I know what’s coming.
TONY COBLE

Hurt Myself Time
Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes, it’s just poetry.
TONY COBLE

Poetry Silence Word
I messed up a lot of things. I called it poetry.
TONY COBLE

Call Mess Myself Poetry
I liked her simplicity. She wanted coffee and orgasms.
TONY COBLE

Coffee Herself Simplicity
There’s a strange beauty in her. She shines like hell.
TONY COBLE

Beautiful Hell Herself Shine Strange
I’m wrong but I’m real.
TONY COBLE

Myself Reality Wrong
Always falling but not for anything.
TONY COBLE

Attitude Fall One Liner
She’s like a jar of butterflies, waiting to be opened.
TONY COBLE

Butterfly Herself Open Wait
Failures often become art. And art can never fail.
TONY COBLE

Art Failure Myself Wisdom
Romance is a dream. I can get better shit at the liquor store.
TONY COBLE

Alcohol Dreams Myself Romance
We search for meaning. And destroy it.
TONY COBLE

Destroy Meaning Philosophy Search
Overcoming guilt, its the first step to doing it again.
TONY COBLE

Deep Guilty Let Go Repeat
True love is letting her know that her ass really does look fat in those jeans.
TONY COBLE

Appearance Funny Herself Love True
This heart. It’s broke. I don’t want it anymore.
TONY COBLE

Broken Heart Heart Myself
It wasn’t forever. But I loved her until I hated her.
TONY COBLE

Forever Hate Love Myself
She could be anything. But she’s just a girl with a broken heart.
TONY COBLE

Broken Heart Herself
Summer looks the same. But last summer she loved me.
TONY COBLE

Couple Love Myself Relationship Summer
I’m just a daydream. I don’t even know what I really am.
TONY COBLE

Dreams Existence Myself
It’s funny how love fades, and they become more than a poem about yesterday.
TONY COBLE

Fade Love Past Poem
She wanted love. So I fed her, inch by inch.
TONY COBLE

Fed Herself Love Myself Sex
Her memory still lingers, like a cockroach in my heart.
TONY COBLE

Heart Herself Memories
She’s just a girl. But her pussy makes me see god.
TONY COBLE

Girl God Herself Myself See Sex Woman
I never drink in the morning. Mornings are for drugs.
TONY COBLE

Drink Drugs Morning Myself
Break me. Until there’s nothing left and I’ll be free.
TONY COBLE

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

Address Herself Mail Man Soul

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