Leyla Steyn

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Never seen some one want red beryl when they can just have themselves.
It's not like they're any different.
And I've always loved that love for that show
The one where everyone is clever like her
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He said you weren't allowed to have sex?
Didn't He know how hard that would be?
For those ravenous eyes and
Wet dicks,
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There are these people
And you envy them
And it saddens you
And it makes you feel bad
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Who told you that image does't matter?
That girl with the pocket mirror
That never really goes in the pocket
Always open, always being moaned at.
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Maybe it was my childhood.
Maybe it was my hormones.
I don't know.
All I know is,
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(I think it's more of a songish thingish thing than a poem-poem but they're practially the same things so enjoy anyways)
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I'm done with this.
He kept saying he hated the place.
Everything was wrong.
I told him to shutup.
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