condescending philosophies tore the unenlightened tissues so that the poisoned lilies could float on the rotten honey that insulated the madness in her haywire veins.
poetry hugged the heart to ashes;
he wailed like a starved siren,
only for the heart to comprehend his too-sweet octaves and dulcet tones to be "i don't care." and "you never mattered." as his claw-like hands cradled it close to his hideous figure,
only for the heart to decimate by his deathly touch.
(so maybe
it was the first time
that he ever
cared.)
the silken art of two loveless spiders
weaved across her
m a l f u n c t i o n e d
lungs
caught the hatred in their ethereal threads.
their broken sign of affection
burning along with her hopes of chasing
b el o ve d
time.
seconds brushed her sulfric tears.
the fallacies instigated the flames on the edges of her transversal abyss intoxicating her senses with cherry champagne and poison candy.
they left her
mad
and
deadly
and
misunderstood.
They made her
philosophically,
and
theoretically,
and
indubitably
broken.
poetry by Lilia
edits by the amazing
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