Image by Artie_Navarre from Pixabay
he breathes the scent of me as he moves in
going for the kill, he can smell the sin
he thinks he knows I want what's on his mind
kills every little hope one at a time
he hates the wildness I hide inside
he thinks it's a game when I try to hide
he gets a thrill watching my dying dreams
he loves listening to my helpless screams
he wants me to be his porcelain doll
to be his servant at his beck and call
I'd sooner live my days in poverty
than ever grant him ownership of me
~Cie~
Song Inspiration:
Rest in peace Scott Weiland
To every bastard who mentally, physically, or sexually abused and took advantage of my younger self with her low self-esteem who was so desperate to be loved, burn in hell.
These sorts of assholes seek vulnerable women to prey on. They are low-life predatory sadists.
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