Emo Appetizer
Ill burn you,
To the ground.
Let the vapors gasp in empty airs around you,
And suck into themselves until nothing is left to drip across these acres of empty soil.
I'll tear you from the very skin aching for leave from the sinew drenched upon your bones.
Frequencies of follicles, a fallacy facade.
Faking.
F'd you into the floor.
Foment you in flames until remnants are but memories, blistering in dust particles, hovered in sunbeams, hanging through naked windowpanes, planked perpendicular against wooden floors, never to be seen again until memory chances you in a whim.
Copyright © Beej Simrov | Year Posted 2025
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