The lips that whispered to my skin,
Kissed my skin,
And even marked my skin.
The same lips that
Made me become
A dreadful sin.
You tell me I'm an angel.
In reality though,
I'm the son of the devil.
Who still tries to convince himself he's a child of god.
YOU ARE READING
Air Bubbles And Paper Cuts
PoetryJust some things I never had the guts to say out loud. (Updated daily??)
Child of god
The lips that whispered to my skin,
Kissed my skin,
And even marked my skin.
The same lips that
Made me become
A dreadful sin.
You tell me I'm an angel.
In reality though,
I'm the son of the devil.
Who still tries to convince himself he's a child of god.