day 9 |him.| conceit freewrite

you're twisted,
a curled up, mangled creature of hate
a undulating mass of thorns and brush
and every time we speak
i trust my hands to your surface
to reveal your truth
you burrow deeper under my skin
dredging up your own hate
with a sauve smile as your cruel words
slowly draw my burning blood
unaware that it will burn you, too.

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top