lying for the sake of seeing them squirm under your finger
the satisfactory crunch of bones on pavement built from broken trust
you whisper nasty little lies into their ears at night
oh please don't cry, don't shed a tear, we wouldn't want your face to rust
YOU ARE READING
dark poems
Poetrythis seems like poetry and prose sometimes it's more than you'd suppose see, what my mind creates, goes but what that is, nobody knows
