Beauty wraps around my fingers
Guilt- the strings that attach
Sorrow is the master
Moving me with its strong ways
And I am the puppet
Writing a poem of sorrow
My soul spills
Water drenching my hair
Disgusting colors
Twist and swirl
Flowing down the drain
Hunched over the taste stings my mouth
Dull aches along my thighs
Sin after sin paint my body
A vessel- holding my poison soul
I am decaying like earth
Dying slowly with time
I wither away and crumble beneath
The touch of those who are growing
Glow with light
I am burned by your bright
But the darkness will swallow
And I've learned it bites
So here I sit
My soul leaking through with my fluids
Whether be crimson sought aches
Or the waste that flows through the drain
My being is an existence that is too strong to contain
Living may be pain
But leave I cannot
These flowers need the presence
Of my so-called divinity
But refuse to reward me
with relief
I am suffering from an incurable illness
no amount of medication makes it better
and yet they tell me I'll live
as long as I don't go mad