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Geneva Henderson

Of our Romance

Your a fever I can't sweat out,
Laying in bed, screaming your name,
I can't get rid of you, so easily

Your like a drug I can't put down,
Coursing in my veins, thicker, sweeter then the blood,
Running from our finger-tips
As we hold hands, running through the razor blades
Of our Romance

Your like something I've caught,
A rare butterfly in a net,
And I love you,
More surely then I've ever loved
Anything else before.

Your like a fever I can't sweat out,
Thrashing in the sick bed
Of our Romance

poem by Geneva HendersonReport problemRelated quotes
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