lmkr

let me do you a favor
and turn you into literature

your composure hints that you want to be alone
your smiling teeth suggest things that aren't shown
your words are the fruit of your trembling beginning to rot
your forked tongue masked with treason and plot
your breath begging for apathy and awe
your cheeks red with sympathy trying to make its way into your jaw

anyhow
you will always make the perfect damsel

and i am not capable of turning you into literature
let alone anything

you fix you