Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2019
A pure soul bares used fangs with blood dripping down their lips while they carry a soft smile knowing know one saw what they did
To that husk devoid of a soul with two holes left in their heart knows pain yet that wasn’t what left them for dead
That was left to knowing they didn’t die after the tragedy and that the rest only hold fury toward them just because the husk won’t pretend to have a heart left in their chest.
I’m not done yet.
Folie
Written by
Folie
84
     Fawn and Bogdan Dragos
Please log in to view and add comments on poems