I am not virtuous. Quite the opposite, in fact. I am violent, catastrophic, and destructive. If you are Peace, then I surely must be War.

Lunar embodiment , star - flecked girl ; the bearer of most divine magic.

I am all teeth. The type that penetrates flesh and tears , the type that bares a bloodstained grin after committing atrocities. Feral , wicked thing.

Once the epitome of beauty ; doe - eyed , mistress of the sunkissed dawn ( … ) Now , a daughter of Hell’s rot and mutilation.

Oh , darling lover of mine ╱ lips candy - sweet ; a submissive droplet of sun - light. Come , kiss me one more time.

We are born of darkness , lovers dripping in blood and sin ; matchstick and flame , let’s burn the whole fucking world down.

Mourn for the fate a mother’s daughter did not have ╱ mourn for the one she does.

My heart , a foreign thing. Empathetic , yet distanced. Kind , yet cruel. It devours love , but cannot give it.

Bone by bone , these broken pieces of me are starting to mend. A fragile dove , finally learning she has wings.

I knew a woman who once carried pain in her eyes and splinters in her soul. The world taught her to be cruel , to entomb her heart in ice. She bit hard , struck fast. A mirror image of her mother ( … ) Then came along a savior.

I am the voice that was once muzzled ; peace - keeper , avoidant at the nature of confrontation ——— Such flourished from unseen scars.

There is a snake and a bird. One is hungry , the other is defenseless and young. Although lacking venom , the serpent has the creature cornered , no matter how she beats those wings. Which will you save?

You never saw me. Only what I could give you. You never heard me. I’ve always been much too quiet. You never knew me. Just the version you’d find palatable.

A heart. How ironic , the thing I cannot live without is what fails me the most.

There are times I wish I was softer. When my touch knew how to be gentle , and my tongue spoke captivating rather than quiet. I wish I did not run at the first sight of affection , but embraced it. I wish I was more rose and less thorn.

Her curiosity is an undoing. She taunts with fire ——— Not simply to feel the rush of heat upon that supple - and - scar - flecked skin , but to observe what it devours.

My secrets yearn for a way out , and , oh , how I claw for a reprieve. From all the things unsaid , my tongue burns ; From the falsified pleasantries and superficial smiles , my teeth feel much too grainy. More sandpaper than enamel.

I am an expert at telling you everything that you want to hear — but never truly letting anybody in. Such is my nature : emotionally distant , left with a hollowness where my heart should be.

The girl who cannot say no. Who gives until there is nothing left. S - teps once light , now heavy. Th - e smile that illuminates a room , now forced. Each pull of muscle flourishing a new facial ache. The day , an inescapable prison.

I am the girl who does not exist. A ghost , until one has usage for me. In the room , but always o - verlooked. Expected to satisfy , b - ut never appreciated. Pushed to the limit , bones e’er weary. I w - ear shackles , not feathers.