There's a girl out there.
She's sweet and innocent,
And loves to love.
She's perfect.
Nice.
...too nice.
She never sees what's right in front of her.
Never hears the words of the devil,
Never tastes the blood and iron in her mouth,
Never feels the knife in her back,
Because she's perfect.
You can step on her and she'd say sorry.
Sad.
You'd call her a stupid girl,
But that's her.
The girl.
Her.
She.
She would never change.
She'd never want to.
Why?
Because she's the perfect girl.
-L.N.L
YOU ARE READING
Rigor Samsa
Poetry"n. a kind of psychological exoskeleton that can protect you from pain and contain your anxieties, but always ends up cracking under pressure or hollowed out by time-and will keep growing back again and again, until you develop a more sophisticated...
