AboutFeeling cold, feeling empty. Set the stage, where you want me.
And this crowd right before me doesn't care that I'm dying.
And the audience stands with their eyes fixed on the preconceived version of me.
I'm so betrayed by your hopes, but I will not hide myself for your peace of mind.
Viewing 12 of 72 friends
Fatal's Fevered Fantasies
This is where I keep my poetry, thoughts, and musings upon the world I'm surrounded in.