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I messed up a lot of things. I called it poetry.

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Call Mess Myself Poetry

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

Forever Hate Love Myself
She wanted love. So I fed her, inch by inch.
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Fed Herself Love Myself Sex
In an endless universe, she needed space.
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Herself Need Space Universe
Always falling but not for anything.
TONY COBLE

Attitude Fall One Liner
I messed up a lot of things. I called it poetry.
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Call Mess Myself Poetry
We are only beautiful monsters, dreaming of god.
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Beautiful Dreams God Monster
I liked her simplicity. She wanted coffee and orgasms.
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Coffee Herself Simplicity
Overcoming guilt, its the first step to doing it again.
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Deep Guilty Let Go Repeat
I’m just a daydream. I don’t even know what I really am.
TONY COBLE

Dreams Existence Myself
Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes, it’s just poetry.
TONY COBLE

Poetry Silence Word
With her, the world becomes art.
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Art Herself World
She was an artist on top of me, and soaked my sheets with poetry.
TONY COBLE

Artist Myself Poetry Sex
We search for meaning. And destroy it.
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Destroy Meaning Philosophy Search
I gave her address to my soul. Ans she fucked the mailman.
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Address Herself Mail Man Soul
There’s this thing that hurts inside me all the time. Because I know what’s coming.
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Hurt Myself Time
It’s funny how love fades, and they become more than a poem about yesterday.
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Fade Love Past Poem

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