His hands were like snakes
slivering up my back
his voice was like ice
as cold as it could get
his breath was like a bottle of whiskey
a sickling smell to the air
his eyes pierced into me
like i was his belonging
like i was a library book
like i was his pencil
like i was his girlfriend
i was never his to keep
i was his little puppet
i was his secret,a secret that died with him
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 12:59 PM UTC
His hands were like snakes
slivering up my back
his voice was like ice
as cold as it could get
his breath was like a bottle of whiskey
a sickling smell to the air
his eyes pierced into me
like i was his belonging
like i was a library book
like i was his pencil
like i was his girlfriend
i was never his to keep
i was his little puppet
i was his secret,a secret that died with him