Poison Loves

I am a sweet poison,

filling your head with whispered promises of tomorrow,

a drug that will lift you up when you are tumbling deep into the darkness of socially-induced comas.

I am a loving poison,

running down your skin in colorful streams,

a parasite that will bite down and suck away the blood on your wrists.

I am a protective poison,

holding your heart hostage inside bars of flesh,

a tobacco-stick to choke the lungs of all that would lust after or hurt you.

I am poison,

seeping into you from every direction until I am lost in you,

a hand gripping so tightly.

Chemicals frown as you welcome me inside and let me place bars around your most vital organ.

Contact lights a spark,

smoke curls in confusion,

magnets stare at reflections,

in stale air lies a question.

Why do you accept the poison so many have rejected?

You breathe in deep the horrid fumes that emanate from my past,

and you call it beautiful.

The tendrils of smoke draw back in shock,

the reaction is incorrect,

every other victim drew away from my lethal claws.

I bare my fangs as if to say, "fear me",

but you smile and bare your neck so willingly,

inviting me to pierce through and pump my venom in deep.

I expect cries of pain,

to contract bruises as you try to push me away,

but you stay,

still,

making pleasant sounds that ring in my ears,

haunting me.

It's all wrong,

It's all wrong,

how dare you make me smile?

You render me helpless,

why don't you see the poison?

My scratching is feeble against your shivers and gasps.

I am meant to be poison,

infecting all I touch with destruction,

y o u s m i l e

what was I saying, again?

Everything freezes

going in slow motion

as the dirty icebergs under your eyelids melt

Something changes

I become so weak,

I fall to my knees,

I become a beggar

I'll do anything to stop the tears,

d o n ' t c r y...

I'll pour acid on my flesh to wash away my imperfection,

I don't want to be poison.

I'll reach into my mouth with soft metal

and rip out the fangs you've come to love

d o n ' t c r y...

I'll tear my claws from my bloody fingertips with a sharp object.

d o n ' t c r y...

The fangs that never existed,

the claws formed by words on the tongues of others.

And you tell me

d o n ' t c r y

your words reaching into my soul

you've changed me

M y A n t i d o t e .