Death By Poison Ivy
She creeps, she grows, dark hearted as the crows
Death By Poison Ivy
They whispered Ivy’s name with care.
A woman shaped from dark and dare.
She loved him once, then found the proof.
His lies ran wild beneath her roof.
No tears. No rage. Just quiet steps,
She traced his scent, she placed her bets.
The wine was red, the smile slight.
He never saw the slipping night.
She kissed his cheek and watched him sway.
Love rots, she said, and so will you.
The garden bloomed the very next day.
He said her name, then someone elses.
She heard it once, then left him helpless.
No shouts, no storm, just vines that twist,
A lover’s grip, a traitor’s kiss.
She let him sleep, then sealed the room.
No light, no sound. No hint of doom.
He woke too late, the air too sweet—
A creeping scent beneath his feet.
Ivy doesn’t beg or cry.
She doesn’t ask the reason why.
She plants the seed, she lets it grow.
Then watches while it chokes him slow.
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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