I remember when I couldn't stop getting butterflies.
I have never done with killing butterflies.
Killed my son too.
I love it, love it.
I stay up all night, I live in a bad kind of Street every night.
And the devils are always here to cut you like a fish.
Bury me to take back your humanity.
I walk home on repeat, because this is my 25.
I will always remember the days, and my eyes stay dry.
I realized, I'm the devil.
Found Candies inside fish.
Ha.. Haa.. Haaaaa......
Bury me.
YOU ARE READING
Chaos, Meaning and Poetry
PuisiIf you like weird, chaotic or deep poetry then this book is for you. You can find almost anything here, from Frying fish to Battlefields. Most of the poems are weird, hihi.
