Shudder.
To Satan's little helper.
I shudder.
Your name still tastes the same on my tongue,
Bitter.
Just like our love.
It once was the sweetest fruit on the tree, never picked so it withered and fell to our feet.
Starved, I cried out
All the other fruit just out of my reach,
I held our expired love and I tried to eat, only to be greeted with a mouth full of seeds.
You were never made for me
No you were never made for me.
