writing a book,
with blood covered hands.
a quill, sharper to tear my heart again,
with every words that plant like a bomb.
you've never seen inside my mind,
more than the way i act outside.
these words were only meant for you,
lines that'll somehow fill the tiny brain of yours
on how i felt.
take time to read it, for it'll teach you
on how to love your next victim properly.
♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♤
YOU ARE READING
Something about US
PoetryLove is distracting, nothing but heartache and heartbreaks, but, butterflies flutter inside from where it grumbles when you're near me...
