don’t let the peaches on the southern bank
disturb your holy fast,
they cannot tell you where you ache
and how long this pain will last.
of course i will never leave,
cause only torture makes me think.
one day you’ll step into our bedroom,
your throat ripped through with screams
you will see me as i really am,
not just the one you dreamed.
my horns are torn.
an angel’s face.
my wounds are rosy pink
why don’t you love me like this?
and i knew it was love when i left him,
crying,
thinking of u lusting after other girls
i love the bruises
i gave my hips, thinking of you;
cause when they ache,
it’s as if you almost touched me there.
Confession of the Southern Bank
© Copyright: Камилла Салахова, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125081802930
Свидетельство о публикации №125081802930
Рецензии
качественная вещь. не менее качественный тгк.
Дмитрий Кленчин 18.08.2025 14:55 • Заявить о нарушении
Дмитрий Кленчин 18.08.2025 14:55 • Заявить о нарушении