I think i want to eradicate the little girl, whose insatiable craving for mere moments of affection grows unceasingly,
Her hunger knows no bounds, even with the wretched stomach she was birthed with.
The intestines all puzzled into one another like an inescapable labyrinth.
Yet look at her, with her ravenous face, nibbling at the love someone kind gives.
Treacherous people gambled her heart away, yet somehow she builds it back with the sheets of her blood dripped skin.
Pierces her muscles to make it beat, one at a time, one for each breath.
Bleeding inside, creating wounds for herself, yet stitching it back up so that no one sees.
This sick notion of dreadful, unattainable love—why do you strive for such an impossible task?
I'm exhausted by her relentless drain on my soul, as her desperation tries to feed on my emotions.
Yes, i want to kill the pathetic little girl, she's better dead to me. With her gone, i would be liberated from this misery.
Asking God to change the prophecy?
Only a fool like her would feed on such a hysterical hypocrisy.
Comments