DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, my heart aches for the wounds:\


is it when a matter is in the faults???

the puts of the words and the spits of the secrets

moon I swore the hells to I would never say loud

it's like the repressed in her

in her stashes

her hidden ashes dancing in the rests

fearing of the miss

of the outs of the mists

too much of bliss or not

deprivation an official ****

when my chest aches

blessed with the silence

cursed with those disgusting chaos of a waste

transforms to the addicting

an incredulous taste

menaced to me on her fazes she spills

psychotic on the egos what is this???

drown me in an ocean of misery

won't matter as much of the mockery


                                                       ­                       ------ravenfeels