It was inside his poetic mind
Held deep hidden from even him
The rhymes that would tangle her
In a web of lust, spray painted gold
Altering the finish to match loves luster
His words would wrap her in a warm blanket
The same blanket that one day she might smother herself with
Only after choking on his words
Drowning in his bile
The wolf in sheeps clothing
Was always referencing the man who
Would twist words with emotion
Guiding the unsuspecting down a lime lit path of fizzling dreams
The path lined with broken picture frames and crumpled love notes
With only the occasional straw handle to affectionately grasp towards, if only there to hang yourself from.