one… two… and three,
wishing upon the moon tree
make him see how prescious my worth is,
make him feel me like a warmth sea-breeze.
four… five… and six,
counting all the games and his tricks
he made me fell
right under his spell
how can I be save, drowning in this deepwell?
seven… eight… and nine,
reminiscing the days he used to be mine
how enticing his tickles from the inside
it cuts me open from the outside.
ten… eleven… and twelve,
I’m digging out my own grave
and I will bury my heart
and all it felt, six feet
only then, I can now be sure, he’ll face defeat.