lOVE
The pen I use;
The blade you used to decapitate me.
You complete me;
the noose around my neck.
My hand shall never rise;
euthanasia
Three ribs to make up enough of you for when I meet you again in the next lifetimes.
Katleho Morajane
Tue 28th Jun 2016 21:12
Simple, as the concept of the title should be. The text manifests the title, and the title is the blueprint for the text.