{ side b ; track seven }
❝Son père est une brute, sa mère est un sac de boxe.❞
Seven years of Age, a chip
off the old block, charming.
Knocking oVer smaller childrEn,
bruised himself behind a fake smile.
THE wounds are never faded enough
By nightfall; it's a vigOrous cYcle.
YOU ARE READING
2/10
Short Story❝keep two eyes on ten fingers, there's a thief among us❞ { s c r a p s }
