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tiri-dear-1Poems
The stings of angry bees My sister sings silent songs of these. They sting her ears when she speaks of them. A worker-bees wrath complies as tears of honey fall from her eyes. Her blossoming mind wilting while they **** my sister dry. Wincing with pain, blinking, going insane. Her broken thoughts keep thinking. They pull her hair from her head, nails from her fingers. Stingers rising from her bed, that frightened movements triggered. Turning white sheets to red. A nest created within her head in which the queen's fed my sister's dying thoughts.
0
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 11:28 PM UTC
The Stings of Angry Bees
The stings of angry bees My sister sings silent songs of these. They sting her ears when she speaks of them. A worker-bees wrath complies as tears of honey fall from her eyes. Her blossoming mind wilting while they **** my sister dry. Wincing with pain, blinking, going insane. Her broken thoughts keep thinking. They pull her hair from her head, nails from her fingers. Stingers rising from her bed, that frightened movements triggered. Turning white sheets to red. A nest created within her head in which the queen's fed my sister's dying thoughts.
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tiri-dear-1
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 11:28 PM UTC
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