Journal of a Psychotic.mature
Prologue.
October 28, 1907
I looked into his eyes as he looked back into mine. I knew that someday this would turn out horribly, especically considering his mother more of a lunatic than both of us put together. But who knew the odds were this good of finding someone I'd like to spend my life with in a mental facility? Regardless of anything, I loved him. If I could ever be someone capable of love.
He looked at me with a desperation that the saddest tragedy could never elaborate or perfect. This was our moment...
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
Journal of a Psychotic., which
was posted on Jan 6, 2010 by
elocrocker.
This is a collaborative poem.
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"A tale of a young romance, nothing like a summer dream. School with stress; dise..."
This poem is filed under:
Love / Romance
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