strawberry
Learn more about other poetry terms
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