The temptation is real. The temptation of having that cold blade pressed hard against my wrist, The lust of feeling my stomach twist as my head spins and the whole world becomes a memory, The gravity between my neck and those ropes is crushing. the ropes just wanting to be tied around it like a chokers made of gold. A necklace of death.
YOU ARE READING
A MESS.
Poesíaa book of scattered thoughts, words and actions. forever under construction so don't expect anything really. I'm not the best, but I love what I do & I do what I love.
