fingering the strings
pluck, twist, pull,
he's completely in control.
he loves me
he loves me not
he loves me
he loves me not
he doesn't love me?
he is the one picking the petals off the daisy.
he loves me
he loves me not
he loves me
he loves me not
maybe he does love me?
he would release the strings only to pick them up once more and yank harder.
i'm spun again like thread on a spinning wheel,
he's completely in control.
he loves me
he loves me not
he loves me
he loves me not
he strangled me?
how could he?
he could.
the thin string he wound around me
was only getting higher up my neck
until he let it
kill me.
he was completely in control.
