Intrepid.

Intrepid.



Do you see things?
See things like I do?
You tell me it's true.
But you're a lying piece of s**t,
So I hope what you see,
Will be the death of you,
If I don't get to you first.

So I'll leave you on the street,
To rot away in agony,
Maybe then you'll look better,
As you reach closer and closer to your end.

How do those tracks?
How do those tracks look?
Your body still bears the marks I left,
They almost make one face look a little better,
Produced by your own wreckage,
I still think you look best,
Dead.

So I'll leave you on the street,
To rot away in agony,
Maybe then you'll look better,
As the tires trample your lifeless corpse.

How do you?
How do you like me now?
With your eyes forced shut,
By the fury of my hand,
Am I pretty enough now?
A beauty fierce enough to kill,
And with a look I'll feed your body to the engine.

So I'll leave you on the street,
To rot away in agony,
Maybe then you'll look better,
As the oil drips down and burns your skin.

Still think I'm a pushover?
Do you still think I'll take your s**t?
While deep inside the grave,
Well we're both dead now.
I've brought you down.
How do you like me now?

Reviews

[Arthur Crow]

I think for this piece empowers the one weaving the words.. I really liked it, it has a bite that grabs the reader and the style flows nicely with vivid determination.

[Orlando Murcia]

I have never read anything like this before
I am not sure if I should laugh or I don't even know

But I really liked this
You left me very intriqued

Job well done

I am glad I wasn't your car ;)

[StoryTailor]

It seems like you had some anger to vent off. IF that was the point I could clearly understand your message. It was relatively good in my opinion.