A sin so painful unbearable A love everyone hated but y'all became inseparable A twisted game a fated mate Lives entwined stapled together like losses paper A nightmare a coven a dream to die for yet converted Marks of the beast but clawed with your own nails who's really the monster numbers or ourselfs A mirror projects lies upon lies hidden in such a define smile A face so pure with hidden scars carved into her memory a monster that hides behind closed eyes A tango, a roped design Fatigue swoven inside A beat a patterner made for the simple minded A monster Hated A monster Who lays mistreated A monster inside

Like a merry go round her life is entangled always manipulated like the strands of her hair always twined together by the forceful wind Yet the cold breath speculates if she is dead or alive Open the pages to a ripped up book only to consulate the ones who judged it Written in uncertainty made from the lack of fame never to be someone's first priority Like a merry go round her life is entangled Spinning outta control while a smile is placed upon her face She dances alone to the sound of his voice that's how she cradles herself to sleep Yet the cold breath speculates if she is dead or alive A frozen melody notes stamped in time a recording resisting emotions that gazes upon her fragile mind Does she love him maybe its a fear factor of does he love her a curling of familiarity setting inside her Like a merry go round spinning till I hurl wanting it to stop yet I never wanna step off

Hey guys, join me in wishing our new members a warm welcome - Marco Ellay Ethan Brandy Welcome to the community ✨

My body is a temple. Ancient, crumbling, cursed and probably haunted I begged to be catered touched like no other hands of strength for my chaotic Witches cursed upon many resting faces to be valued like a saint like I was destined to be his fated mate My body is a temple. Ancient, crumbling, cursed and probably haunted Faced with the morals of tainted love grasped with designer flags The tomb is no longer holding like old rum its pursues the unfaithered and drowns them with there own hatred My body is a temple. Ancient, crumbling, cursed and probably haunted A value that not many can say they know For only certain hands can be placed upon such a sweet devil's body Addicted to pain yet the sorrow of cries to be loved right mixed with her night terrors howling into the cold winter night My body is a temple. Ancient, crumbling, cursed and probably haunted Wrote by ellay black