tw: profanities.
to him,
DON'T
Fool me with your flowery
words, that tells nothing but
lies.
Use my body, and then boast
me to your colleagues, like
i am a trophy, that you
should be proud of.
Care for me, if in the first
place those bullshits acts are
just for your show.
Kneel infront of me, crying and
saying that your sorry even though you're not.
YOU ruin the hell out of me, treating me like i'm a sort of bitch. Don't ever call yourself a man, if you don't know how to value and respect a woman.
YOU ARE READING
Mist of Petrichor
Poetry"Meet me at Block #143, Burntloved of Catastrophe. Where thousands of parchments and lies are buried." ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚. where the literatures of esthereal are archived. RANDOM POEMS AND PROSES COMPILATION ©2021 photo used on cover aren't mine. credits...
