You're just killing yourself.


Your eyes grow more dim,

the night flooding your vision.

Your mouth speaks of things

only said when lust kisses your lips.

Your mind retreats to the darkest corners

where the light will never shine.

Your heart has turned to stone, to ice,

and even the blazing fires melt it not.


All because of the poison.


You knew it was poison.

You knew it even before you put

the chalice to your lips.

You took one sip.

Savored each drop with their

sickly-sweet aroma controlling your being.

Now a multitude of empty glass bottles

is strewn around on the floor,

shattered pieces and jagged edges.


And it's still poison.

But have hope.


There will come a day where

you retch it up with your whole being,

the bitter aftertaste of regret

refusing to leave you be.


You'll stop the death of your self.


Then will your eyes shine

brighter than the center of the sun.

Then will you break the kiss

you kept only for yourself.

Then will your mind emerge from the shadows,

surrounded in an aura of white light.

Then will your heart melt, crack,

take back its form in flames.


Then will you be..



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