Peach juice dripping from the smile on my face
Strawberry locks masquerade with the wind
Still counting the cracks with laces untied

Weak like bird bones
Delicate like a daisy fresh plucked

I'm a dead girl
But I guess you had a thing for necrophilia

11 years young when I met the Devil
Milk teeth smile and baby blue eyes
You took a liking to that

Teacher.
They guide you to be prepared, but you guided your burned fingertips across my undeveloped velvet body

Did you like the taste of my innocence?