death solemnly whispers into my hair
idling at the thought of love
he loves that i make deals with the devil
more than i breathe the air
he loves that i dance on broken tombstones
something like that leaves him bare.
he loves that i never kiss him goodnight
although one day, i might
purely out of spite
because you're not here
and quite frankly dear,
you are nowhere near
YOU ARE READING
bitter sugar
Poetrycollection of poems about love that is too bittersweet to even taste.
