Twine
Convince yourself that everything is fine
Get high on leaves and drunk off sweet wine,
invite the starving wolves to dine
Feed your body to their teeth
Our Garden, your bones burried underneath
Covered in twine, your funeral wreath
On your tombstone, what will I write?
"She thought I couldn't hear her cry at night
She didn't didn't struggle as the jaws held tight"
Copyright © Jay Yeats | Year Posted 2019
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