I remember the soft pink curve of your lips as you sang out my death sentence for the world to hear. You didn't hesitate to rip the tar from my lungs and replace it with something much more violent. I told everyone that the bruises you gave me were complete accidents, and that the drugs were just for having a good time. I slowly forgot that I was human, and every breath became just another excuse for you to pull me deeper into the cold water. My blood lost it's warmth. My throat was raw and covered in your lies. But I still continued to give you what little I had left. Part of me believed that you'd given me life. I couldn't see that I was dying. I continued to drown until finally, you decided the thrill of killing me was no longer worth it.
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Academy Of American Bullshit
PoesíaCollection of poetry, parts of short stories, and the occasional rant written by an artist who is angrier than she'd like to admit.
