A

126. Growing Up

She isn't kind
Her nails are the length of silent truths
Her breath leaves me feeling
Like prey, hunted for my failures
No kindness, soft hiding does not exist
In her almighty eyes
But her teeth
They are the sweetest release
And when her tongue tastes your last broken breath
She will disappear with the dawn
Nothing but a story to remind you
Of who you were in the darkness
©another