- 2 thoughts
- Log in to add a thought
You make mental cruelty an art form. Using words as whips, but your whips are wrapped in velvet, brocade, satin, silk, scented with vanilla and lavender, flowers there are no names for. You tricked me into despising myself, and thinking I was doing it out of free will. Mind of millipedes, a thousand thousand appendages all designed to manipulate me. You offered false comfort in cheap oversized doll arms, looking lifelike but ice cold in reality and then, when I was close, you refused to let go.