Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
lips of amaranth dripped decadent language through weakened teeth she gave all she had to get there & she's forgotten where she left her pieces fear of fate follows her around as vines held tightly to her wrists, waiting to prepare it's most nefarious dish so that she may be tempted to break loose & put a pen to her pain but seldom does the ink flow for the fear makes its bed in the nest of all she doesn't want to lose settled in the leaves of ivy a prisoner she remains but would you declare Stockholm Syndrome if you truly belong?
0
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 12:42 PM UTC
.found the devil in me.
lips of amaranth dripped decadent language through weakened teeth she gave all she had to get there & she's forgotten where she left her pieces fear of fate follows her around as vines held tightly to her wrists, waiting to prepare it's most nefarious dish so that she may be tempted to break loose & put a pen to her pain but seldom does the ink flow for the fear makes its bed in the nest of all she doesn't want to lose settled in the leaves of ivy a prisoner she remains but would you declare Stockholm Syndrome if you truly belong?
jml90
Written by
33/F/American
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 12:42 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem