With eyes as dark as licorice
pierce through me, I don't exist.
Springy brown curls, I call them cinnamon,
wrap me up and strangle me within.
Razor-sharp wit, sarcasm,
trapped inside a crystal chasm.
Candy-coated, sweet outer shell, hiding demons, fire... and hell.
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 11:55 AM UTC
With eyes as dark as licorice
pierce through me, I don't exist.
Springy brown curls, I call them cinnamon,
wrap me up and strangle me within.
Razor-sharp wit, sarcasm,
trapped inside a crystal chasm.
Candy-coated, sweet outer shell, hiding demons, fire... and hell.