The eyes of a loner.
I hate your skin,
nor do I enjoy those teeth being aligned disproportionately .
The hands, unscarred yet shaky.
'tis a disgustingly flawed body.
Burdened with a burdened lover.
I hate your thoughts
surging in 'cause of your frail mentality.
Kisses cannot match this state of sobriety.
I hate weaklings, and thus I hate thee.
YOU ARE READING
IDIOMATIC
PoetryI have some things in my mind that I still don't know about. Sometimes they just come out as words through a pen on a page (or in my notes app too). But yeah, if you, by a needle in a hay chance, have read the (deleted)poem book I wrote before this...
