Trust isn't given
It's earned
I was stupid enough to give it to you
I let you in on all my secrets
Told you my truth
You started as an innocent little sheep
At some point you took off your mask and I saw a wolf with red burning in your eyes
Unfortunately I was the one who was shot and you got to live with your lies
Feeding off of the goodness I was and you could never be
My fur was white as snow stained by the perfect murder from a bullet you let kill me when you said you would save me
Sheep never run from a wolf
They run from the bullet that follows
The gun will be reloaded
The devil will come for you too
YOU ARE READING
Before I Blackout
PoetryMy best work is done when I'm on the edge of blacking out, when you finally stop trying to pretend you have a grip on what runs though your mind, you should try writing with your eyes half closed and your mind wide open. This may be an on going pro...
