eyes devour tasteless words
sprung up from the depths
conniving little snitches
Her nails twist and twitch
dripping in, with disgust
sipping on the attics secrets
it leaks
and
it reeks
She sits like a falling queen
bordered with flaking fake gold
the lips crumbling dry
She had no tone left
caked in old skin
many Women scream 'poor Her'
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 12:01 AM UTC
eyes devour tasteless words
sprung up from the depths
conniving little snitches
Her nails twist and twitch
dripping in, with disgust
sipping on the attics secrets
it leaks
and
it reeks
She sits like a falling queen
bordered with flaking fake gold
the lips crumbling dry
She had no tone left
caked in old skin
many Women scream 'poor Her'
