crimson blues



Fate is a fickle god

with her winding claws

unruly tresses

feeding off of your violations while

lodging spoonfuls of terror

right down your throat


You see

she doesn’t care

for the unequivocal

she’d much rather

shred you down- force you to

grovel for your wavering


She has a cruel heart

burns you hot and cold

takes you to galaxies

drudges up trenches

and you couldn’t have known

the chaos inside of her


How those actions tormented her

more than it could ever


have hurt you






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