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Dec 2016
She's gone
Little dove.
Gun
Little love.
Done
Little love.
Done gone
Little love.
Done done
Little love.
Gone done it
Little love.
Done ****** it
Little love.
****** up flew away
Little dove.
No love from the glove
Little love.
Nothing done done it since like my
Little love.
Nothing quenches, nothing touches like my
Little love.
Oh, how it hurts to think of my
Little love. Lovely dove.
Dove with blood on the wingtips
And a tear for each eye
Little love.
How oily little love flies now
A paintbrush of pain in the evening sky,
Oh how she smears the heavens
And in my eyes the colors of the rainbow
Blur,
Lovely painted dove.
How i wander naked, these streets at night,
My shame and rage my only garments, and i can barely stand straight.
Oh, little love.
Waverly
Written by
Waverly
253
   victoria
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