Marionette.
You played my strings.
You pulled me apart.
Saying sorry stings
My burning, broken heart.
You took advantage
Of every part of me.
How could I manage
To ever be free?
You choked me at the neck.
Yanked me like a dog.
Making me a desperate speck
Lost in your manipulative fog.
I tried to flee,
And I kept begging,
Yet you just threw me,
Down on the wrecking.
Give me that knife!
Cut me from this misery!
Take me from my strife!
Freedom is a mystery!
No strings attached
You had said.
Still I was latched,
Tied, and bled.
Under your control,
Getting away
Was my goal.
Yet still I stay.
Letting your hands dominate.
Never letting me deviate.
You, the puppeteer.
Me, the marionette.
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Bathe in Color
RomansaParis Wills is a dreamer. His father always said he got it from his mom, an artist who was unlike any other. Her virtue was painting, and Paris' is poetry. No matter where he is, Paris finds inspiration for his poems. In the summer after his sophom...
