Takeaway girl- poem
I want a takeaway girl,
to put in my pocket and go Continue Reading
I want a takeaway girl,
to put in my pocket and go Continue Reading →
Offense is your name,
and you feed on my flaws Continue Reading →
Ceremoniously upset, Mitch pulled out the phone vibrating in his pocket. Continue Reading →
Don’t make a fuss,
Life goes by and we die,
Why the drama?
Continue Reading →
Chcę być jak kominek, ludzie będą pragnąć usiąść bliżej mnie. Continue Reading →
“Come on! Not again this shit!” Such a cliché, but so true: It was Monday at 8:45 am and again I was having trouble waking up. Continue Reading →
2 cm tyle dzieliło mnie wczoraj od Twoich ust. Continue Reading →