No rest for the wicked, I suppose. I wonder who you think you are, there's no reason to scorn. Sweet pain you should feel as you slice through your opportunity. There wasn't a purpose except your words, you created betrayal.
That was stolen property, I should be in pain. Not you. Spoil yourself silly, eat the rotten sweets. Tell yourself that they aren't bad, that you aren't bad. Egotistically insane, yet you pull everyone away. I wish it was poison and the cupcakes were yours.
You prick, lying your lies. When I slice at this skin, I wish it was yours. Can't anybody see your irresponsible slander that you crafted with your obscene tongue, are you perfection in the eyes of their teenage lies?
You promise them innocence, paint me as your enemy. Yet, I conceal your sooty brain. Precepts aren't existent, you play by your stars of the blackest souls. All of the wicked scenes are told by their sparkling lights of plights.
© Sincerely, ♡ - May 2023
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My Guts Create A Tapestry - Poetry
PoetryThis poetry is strictly copyright, it's all written by me. These poems tend to be written sweetly so you could be reading the most gorey poem and it'd be like it's romantacised. I don't try to romantacise them, it's the way I write. You'll possibly...
