deepundergroundpoetry.com
Does Your Mascara Ever Smear?
Have you ever wandered aimlessly under the guidance of celestial bliss?
Just a bit to much vodka, lost in a city you only have memories of
Not exactly certain where the concrete pavement leads, yet knowing exactly which part of town you're in
Carried away by the mad sirens of your past directing you towards the unknown
Then receive that one txt you subconsciously have been awaiting that reads,
"So I hear you're in town"
Have you ever found that unbearable fatal attraction to a scorpio man?
Smoldered and burnt to cinders under just the lustful gaze of all his majestic mystery
Aware of every gorgeous feature in both his unbelievably intelligent mind and to-die-for body
Assuming you would never have a chance in hell just to spend one night with him
Then when the time came you came and came again in so many more ways than just one
Have you ever ended up stranded at a gas-station in a place you once called home for an hour and a half?
Messy hair and fucked up make-up from yesterday screaming this is your walk of shame
Smiling beseech yourself as you recall every moment of undeniable passion from the night before
Reminiscing about round two of an unspoken rapid oxidation between you and the man of your dreams
It seems that sometimes, the only thing more intimate than a secret lovers touch is the written word of a poet
Just a bit to much vodka, lost in a city you only have memories of
Not exactly certain where the concrete pavement leads, yet knowing exactly which part of town you're in
Carried away by the mad sirens of your past directing you towards the unknown
Then receive that one txt you subconsciously have been awaiting that reads,
"So I hear you're in town"
Have you ever found that unbearable fatal attraction to a scorpio man?
Smoldered and burnt to cinders under just the lustful gaze of all his majestic mystery
Aware of every gorgeous feature in both his unbelievably intelligent mind and to-die-for body
Assuming you would never have a chance in hell just to spend one night with him
Then when the time came you came and came again in so many more ways than just one
Have you ever ended up stranded at a gas-station in a place you once called home for an hour and a half?
Messy hair and fucked up make-up from yesterday screaming this is your walk of shame
Smiling beseech yourself as you recall every moment of undeniable passion from the night before
Reminiscing about round two of an unspoken rapid oxidation between you and the man of your dreams
It seems that sometimes, the only thing more intimate than a secret lovers touch is the written word of a poet
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