Tags
crocodile girls, false-faith, nothing human, poem, Poetry, sonnet
Now you believe me; I, like all of us,
have been betrayed and seen that devil’s grin
on the face of one that I loved. Mistress
mouse, my darling horny toad, what is sin
but the conviction that the divine speaks
to you alone? Trace this river of need
spilling over its banks. Sisters, fuck freaks,
brothers all stand and be counted. I bleed
once a month, too, but not like you. In fact,
there is nothing human with this ending.
This start where girl crocodiles are sincere
unlike you, in their love, lovely swaybacked.
What’s faith but knowing that you know nothing
about faith or love or crocodile tears?
memories of my ghost sista 