WinglessCreature
Hot, and dangerous,
She's calculating,
Maniacal,
Drifting towards a cinematic psychotic break,
She's the loudest silence in any room,
All wide eyed with hidden knives,
Her blood runs cold,
But somehow still reaches for love,
Like the flames wouldn't consume her,
Her mind?
A bruised apple on a silver platter - sweet, spoiled, and too aware.
Is she the rabbit or the fox?
The trembling bait or the velvet snare?
Will she flee into the night-
Or smile sweetly... and strike!
So be careful, darling,
I overthink for fun, and destroy evil like it's foreplay.
⊹ 𓃹. ⊹
𝖭᥆𝗍 ᥲ ᥎іᥣᥣᥲіᥒ ᥆rіgіᥒ s𝗍᥆rᥡ
𝕵ᥙs𝗍 Pᥲ᥎ᥣ᥆᥎'s mᥱᥒᥲᥴіᥒg 𝕯ᥙᥴk