They say it could be the Bible; the manual on dealing with defeat. Composed on top of Calvary, where they often let me sleep. But they ****** me and kicked me out, at around book thirteen;
- “You’ll never understand, until you’ve fought in World War Three”
My heart is no good, and my hands are tired from fighting; I tricked myself into thinking I was worth something

Tramping around the world
like you own it
Lace top
Short skirt
Fishnets
Knee high boots
Red lipstick
And a goddess complex
With a ******* attitude
Exuding immeasurable energy
Enough to entrap me
In spite of all the red flags
I follow you
Like a stray
Lost until I found you
Worshipping
Like the newest religion
Your body a scripture
Whose words I want to memorize