"hodiste" poems
I thought you were sent from heaven,
But you came straight from hell.
clawing, scratching, gnawing me down.
Not even “God” can save us now.
Te hodiste. **** it.”
Pobrecito. “Poor thing.”
Cooing like a child who steals your heart,
Never to return.
Sep 16, 2019
Sep 16, 2019 at 4:09 PM UTC