This site will self destruct in 2 months, March 17. It will come back, and be familiar and at the same time completely different. All content will be deleted. Backup anything important. --- Staff
In the 4th year, there was lovely, excitement; innocent was my love for him
Then, all that world crumbled
The one was so full of Winter.
He spat words of hatred with worms that burrowed holes in this velvet, heart
Left me for dead,
trashed my home drunk with a friend.
How my death just came,
but my living days are yours to blame
All for you, it was tossed to the gloom
Emptiness cursed my sad head and face
Now, there disgraced
Deface the fool
Take my love, toss it the way you best know how
Plead with fate, my heart rips like filthy rags
| My heart rips like filthy rags. That’s fucking poetry darling. Write every line like that and you’ll write something to be remembered. First line, 4th year? No significance. Why not just, once…? Anyways. Good write: amazing last line. Please continue ||| Posted on 2022-10-05 00:00:00 | by leftof_red | [ Reply to This ] |