He told me he loved my long hair,
the way it framed my face.
Accentuated my green eyes.
A sort of beautiful nesting place.
And so I cut it off.
He told me he loved the way I loved Jesus.
My faith was inspiring.
He admired me.
I was what he believed.
And so I stopped praying.
He told me he loved that I was chaste.
So pure.
his ravenous heart found a cure,
between my legs.
And now it's his.
He hated cigarettes with a passion,
I smoked them all ****** and ashen.
He thought it was endearing,
the way I cringed at vulgarity.
My filthy mouth was once a rarity.
But my new favorite word was ****.
He hated drugs,
and so I did them.
He loved me,
and so I didn't.
I pushed and pulled and twisted and fought,
until he didn't know who he loved.
And so he forgot.

Sitting on the brim of a dripping cauldron of jealousy,
feet sloshing around in all the hate.
I heard once, if you fill a bathtub with tobacco water and lay,
your body will soak it in, and it will make you sick.
That thought crosses my mind as my skin begins to turn a sensational green,
the same as the dripping sloshing ******* cauldron I slip.
Sinking deeper into the sloshing ******* stunning green goo, stunned.
I attempt to claw myself out the fire that lured me in now revealing itself much more sinister,
icy cold,
and hardening.  
Her perfect little fingers wrapped around my ankles.
To my hips,
my heart,
my head.
Drowned in a dripping cauldron of jealousy,
silently suffering in all the hate.