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