#nightquill

A/n: yeahhh...just a little poem which maybe got a bit into m personal life..but who's poems are not a bit personal?! Right??

~~~

First you talk about her,

all sweet and grateful,

like she’s the sun keeping you alive.

Then in the next breath,

you’re telling me how my eyes glow,

how you can’t look away.

Sometimes I sneak a glance,

but you’re already staring—

like you’ve got the most unholy fucking thoughts

running laps in your head.

Make up your damn mind,

’cause this push-and-pull

Luna x Stigian)

MLP child:: NightQuill

NightQuill is a philosopher of night beauty and night life .

Selling for 6.00 paypal. ))

“Did you really just do that?!” his voice cracked like thunder, rage clawing its way out of him.

“Yupp,” I sang back, too bright, too sharp, the kind of cheer that cuts its own tongue.

“What a great daughter I have,” he spat, each word dipped in venom, dripping down between us.

I tilted my head, razor calm. “I am not your daughter anymore,” my voice soft but jagged, mocking, dangerous— “you disowned me. remember?”

For a breath, just long enough to taste, shock lit his face— like he hadn’t thought I’d wield his own words as a blade.

Then came the storm, his throat breaking on fury, telling me how ungrateful I was, how he raised me better, how I had ruined everything.