(no subject)
Her shower smelt of cucumbers, or maybe it was the musky taste of mold that made his nastrals quiver. It was creeping up on her, like grimey old regrets.(Ha the irony)
The house was crumbeling, turing into the ashes of her cigarettes, smoldering in his hands, like the cheap girl that she was, melting in her own sensual greed.
She took another drag, s-l-o-w-l-y, whisps of smoke slithered from her toxic lips. So aluring, it was her art.
She was waiting for him, on the bed, like she always was, but this time, This time, she would get wat was coming to her...
~Could this be a new begining, or is it just another metaphor, waiting to kick me in the ass?¿~
The house was crumbeling, turing into the ashes of her cigarettes, smoldering in his hands, like the cheap girl that she was, melting in her own sensual greed.
She took another drag, s-l-o-w-l-y, whisps of smoke slithered from her toxic lips. So aluring, it was her art.
She was waiting for him, on the bed, like she always was, but this time, This time, she would get wat was coming to her...
~Could this be a new begining, or is it just another metaphor, waiting to kick me in the ass?¿~