My poetry's effulgent; freehand damagrafik magic
Ghost Under The Light's possessive of your demographic's addicts
Bookmarks, not bruises, I'm reserved, quiet, reclusive!
Though, I can't hold back now... I'm bout to be abusive!
But aren't you used to it? Little miss submissive cuck slut?
Take your problems by the head and take the top off! That's fucked up!
As for my verse, its Wheel turns, like those seven holy stakes
But you're too hung up on yourself: Cross Days!
Now miss, I don't mean to bust your back like how your bod is
But I'm the goddess you should worship, and that's being modest
Lusting over Bavarois boytoys, giving your own peers hate
And like your namesake, you couldn't even play it straight
Planting a Garden of Words of which I'll nurture to beat ya
A joke lost in translation. Kotonoha no Niwa
I'm not half the monster you are, but you've really pushed my buttons
So unlike Sayori, keep them shut and just stick to the cuttin'!
Going eye to Eye? This girl I'll Mark-ov. I'll show her
Cut her? BUT I BARELY KOTONOH A
Sorry, did I yell? THEN I'VE GOTTA MAKE A LOUDER SOUND
HER THIRD EYE STARES DAGGERS AS MY HEART POUNDS
The dirty work was your deed; win's like Makoto: in the bag
But you have the cutting edge! - In being an obsessive hag
I've got it on tape; no self-insert penned in your vestibule
At least my School Days didn't end before the festival