strawberry

Learn more about other poetry terms

I see Selma the strawberry girl
I wish she tasted like cherry A hopeless, cliche, passion So I don the cherry chapstick For a bittersweet illusion   Her velvety lips are strawberry I don't mind strawberry
I find myself tied to a string, There's an urge pulling at me. I cut off all the heads of my enemies, I begin to saw away at my personalities.   I saw fountains in mountains, It was only a spring.
Blood burns inside her wrists so sore until she’s writhing on the floor in acute pain caused by the madness of consuming ones heart and wanting more. The red drips from her baby nose
Subscribe to strawberry