You

A small poem. But not all of it is real.

Roses are red
Violets are blue,
My heart bleeds
everytime I think of you.
The stars dance
while I wait my chance,
the moon cryes
while my brain fries,
the glass I smoke
hurts each toke,
the days pass
like a swimming bass,
my brain is a haze
it's like a maze,
twisting and turning
and always churning,
I can't help the way I feel
even though your like an eel,
slimmy and gross
like watered down buttered toast.