Her prints are blood drips
I can follow them to the graves
She's not bleeding she's feeding
I'm joining her midnight picnic
The grass has been stained into a red carpet
that leads me to the tombstones where we'll bite and prey
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Author:
Not (
Offline) - Published: August 15th, 2025 10:52
- Category: Friendship
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments2
An interesting write, a touch of the vampires, enjoyed the read
This has a dark and gothic feel to it. It well could be taken as metaphoric as well. Nicely composed it speaks for itself
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