Don't be fooled, sweetheart.
I may look like an angel but beneath my sweet exterior and my halo lays a devil waiting to be free, my horns hid well beneath my white clothes and shiny aura. You won't be able to resist my soft touch as I lure you in my lair of nightmares where you'll see the true colors of hell.
You'll curse and scream, throw a fit and try to flee, but I've already got you wrapped around my finger and I don't plan on letting you go. You may pretend to hate me and my psycho habits but we both know you'll be coming back again,
Grab a gun, honey, you'll need it when the sun shifts and the moon appears and you look at me in all my glory, with lightning in my hair and pure evil in my nightgown. Eyes wide open, waiting for you to make a move. Try to escape, I dare you.
You won't succeed.
Why didn't you listen to your friends when they said run away? Didn't you notice my knife coming for your back...
figuratively
and literally.
- Sorry, I'm out my mind.
YOU ARE READING
Emotional Torture.
PoesíaCollection of poems and pieces written about daily struggles and tackling big world problems from the eyes of a teenager. Warning: Some chapters might be triggering. Triggers include: Suicide Eating disorder Self harm
