It's always the good ones that go to waste Can't undo the past yet deleted files I still chase Loss of identity, leaves me traumatized for phases Only just a little child, way too young for these foretaste
I miss the time where I taught persons actually cared I miss the time when I taught that people were there I miss the time when only Satan was evil I had to find out that the bads ones were the people.
Just another vent poem from yours truly. For the like hundredth time now. Just saying. Sometimes I feel like I'm too young for all this "wisdom" contained in my skull.
Bloodlust Predatory Drooling on my heart clawing for the treat those eyes in ambush lying in uneasy wait on the brink, sharpened teeth savoring the foretaste breathing in the promises I will not delay the inevitable
lips all blades my skin a sea of pins bristled for the kiss tongues coiling for the cut the cold caress and warm metallic flavor sweetness in the air calls ******* the shadows