Prickle

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


This is a stand-alone piece, marking the ease of an uneasy bond.

Submitted: July 16, 2018

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Submitted: July 16, 2018

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Like with the mortal world, I fall into your scarlet folly... Life contorted from the things we dreamed. Never twisting to your twirling word... Not a thing was truly as it seemed. A golden heart brittle in malice, sweats her blood and cries in ink... A tender love worn by the callous endures despite how we don't speak.


© Copyright 2018 morty frey. All rights reserved.

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