The real truth is 2/27/99 The slim of all my Yesterdays…….. Rots in the hollow of My skull. And if my stomach were To contract because of Starvation or pregnancy, I’m sure you wouldn’t care. You killed me, Very much in the way you killed The demons in your head. So long ago. The slime of all my Yesterdays…….. Rots in the hollow of My skull. You just sit in udder stupor, (I’m gonna get you, I’m so sure) And smile while, I convulse and become comatose. I step in to the sun, With no recollection, Of the evil things, I’ve done. The slime of all my Yesterdays…….. Rots in the hollow of My skull. My white rose is bleeding, That black blood that kills you. Just look at me now, I’ll fucking get you, I’m so sure. The walls are melting, All around me people dyeing. I just sit laughing at their death…..hahaha….
Reason for writing:
repulsion of stupor causes by him.
Birth sign: Cancer
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by emma stiches.