black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Her memory still lingers, like a cockroach in my heart.

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Heart Herself Memories

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I hated you. and you hated me. But we called it love.
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Hate Relationship Yourself
She was simple. Like a poem, and always dressed in sunshine.
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Herself Poem Simplicity Sunshine
Failures often become art. And art can never fail.
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Art Failure Myself Wisdom
I’m just a daydream. I don’t even know what I really am.
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Dreams Existence Myself
She’s like turning on the radio and hearing a brand new song.
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Brand Herself Music Radio Song
It’s funny how love fades, and they become more than a poem about yesterday.
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Fade Love Past Poem
This heart. It’s broke. I don’t want it anymore.
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Broken Heart Heart Myself
Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes, it’s just poetry.
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Poetry Silence Word
With her, the world becomes art.
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Art Herself World
Always falling but not for anything.
TONY COBLE

Attitude Fall One Liner
She was an artist on top of me, and soaked my sheets with poetry.
TONY COBLE

Artist Myself Poetry Sex
Break me. Until there’s nothing left and I’ll be free.
TONY COBLE

Break Freedom Myself
True love is letting her know that her ass really does look fat in those jeans.
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Appearance Funny Herself Love True
She was only a collection of flaws and she was beautiful.
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Beautiful Collection Flaw Herself
Women are beautiful. But some are made of hell.
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Beautiful Hell Woman
She’s just a girl. But her pussy makes me see god.
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Girl God Herself Myself See Sex Woman

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