you were right when you said we were filled with deceit i remember your face consumed by fire every pore filled with hatred and lust well we know a thing or two about being burnt used or dismissed at best soon you learn to paint a smile over your scowl hide the fire in your eyes behind a twinkle no choice once you ache from dragging your body uphill by your nails chased by pitchforks stained with blood of your sisters but no one suspects the soft hair soft smile soft soft soft never dreamt of your skin scaly under your sleeve pondweed hanging from your lungs like dresses in the closet of the girl told cross your legs be polite he only teases *** he likes you boys will be boys he has been through a lot it will never happen again and again and again and again take matters into your own hands before blood is spilt your survival relies on your disgust smelling like flowers your screams sounding like songs do not talk to us about deceit until it takes the shape of a knife