rips and scares
Poem by: twinkletoes
take this knife
and with my syth
slit my throat
let it bleed on my coat
when you see my hearts been torn
thats when youll know why i morn
shoot me quick
kill me slow
ill never say why i go
cut me up to stop my soul
from leaving you with a gapping hole
sing that song "the witch is dead"
but really think you want to cradle my head
that one last time to kiss her lips
to sew her heart and glue the rips
© Copyright 2016 twinkletoes. All rights reserved.
rips and scares
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I love this, it's great!