Carnero
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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Wed, Dec 6, 20177m
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Poetry
Malditas voces en mi cabeza, gritando lo que mis labios suelen callar. De esta vida tan vana y artificial, tan solo queda el placer de decir la verdad. Aunque cruda y lacerante, esta vez no habrá lugar a piedad.
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Red isn't always romance, sometimes it's blood, Moon isn't always for lovers, but sometimes for secret cries, Flowers aren't always for marriage, but sometimes for grave, Petals aren't always soft, sometimes they prick the soul. No plagiarism/No hatred plz. Also some things might contain mature contents like self harm. I want to say those kinds of suicidal poems are not to inspire anyone to self harm. I'm strictly against self harm myself. Those thoughts are just a means to release myself. Started writing this book around 25th June, 2021

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