an ax
the princes
as smooth as butter
take away the texture let us glide
to the stars with difficulty
at least we tried
always flooding always torn
a letter opener
the key to purgatory
the mask to a villain
the compassion to a living heart
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believe it or not, this is about her
YOU ARE READING
makeshift roses
Poesiathey start to wilt more every day, but i can never stay away i grab the roses and touch the thorns, because pretty things have devil horns (this is just a thought dump. ive written a lot of stuff on my own so i thought id see what everyone else thin...
