mortician
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Bumps of ketamine.
Go to bed real late.
It’s not what it seems,
Hell is a soulmate.
Vodka made of tears,
My Love he makes me the happiest, but he also causes me so much pain
I wish I never met him, but I also want to be held in his strong arms
My Love he is full of rage, but he is also so senistive
She held him tightly as she bled
A gushing pool of crimson red.
He cried out, “How can this be?
“Why must she be down, and why not me?”
Her wedding dress was now drenched,
