You were such a skilled liar.
I bet you even deceived yourself
And with every lie you told you bled.
Did all those lies hurt?
Was truth always your kryptonite?
You were such a skilled liar.
I bet you must have lost your true self
And with every lie you told your skills
dared to expand.
L.S
YOU ARE READING
DESOLATE
Poetry·•·°·•·°·•· De·so·late So many things could describe my poetry. It is a combination of bliss and bittersweet. One may describe it as the divine taste of strawberries. With a slight twist of sour cherries. You may have it dipped in chocolate with...
