Defeat's a saintly thing,
With kind acceptance,
And a tongue of heated silk,
To warm the heart.
Oblivion, the safe abyss.
No monsters can live on nothing.
Bury those hatchets and petticoats,
Let's never see them again.
Delusions are gifts best left secret,
Coddling the backwards child.
A divine bed to sink between,
They'll swallow up your head.
I envy the satin sheets I lost.
YOU ARE READING
Narcissist
PoetryI write poems so that you might like me. // Insomnia induced poetry.
