He'll be gone by tomorrow. You won't see him again. His voice plays in the back of your head like a fucked up music box. It chants you to insanity. You've killed too many people. Don't regret it tomorrow. He'll be watching you from then on from afar, you dirty criminal. Don't you dare feel sorrow for him.
YOU ARE READING
Infinity
PoetryA dazzling view of words. Multiple perspectives of life and my deepest thoughts and feelings. I write to relieve it all. Thanks for reading! ~Highest rank: #102 in poetry~
