Poison Drips.

I hate the person you made me,

I miss who I was,

Keep on trying to heal me,

Blood seeps through the gauze,

The cold of your poison drips from on high,

Crawls and wriggles it's way under my skin and into my mind - and yet my forehead remains dry,

Your toxicity slowly works it's way in,

Breathing steadily outside, while inside I die,

From upon your lips,

The poison drips,

And slowly rips my heart,

With it's venomous snips,

It's thorn-like darts,

It's like nothing I've ever felt before,

The smell of it like that of the sweetest tart,

A ruse, it hides it's effects at the core,

For when together our lips begin to part,

I know I'll taste that poison more,

It's sweetness dripping down into my heart to make me consent as it tears it apart.