don't worry about that knife, sweet heart
in seconds, that thing will implant itself in your skin
and tear it up restlessly
and you will find yourself engulfed in pure white flames.
but don't cry, sweet heart
you know you'll love it.
YOU ARE READING
untitled.
PoetryStars and painted candlelights are the only things that bother to keep me sane, these days. But it's okay. I know you're trying. (My first posted poetry collection)
