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.

Flirting with 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 give it a soak,
your body will drink it in, and it will make you sick.
That thought crosses my mind as my skin turns 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,
sinister,
colder than I thought,
calcifying.  
Her perfect little fingers wrapped around my ankles.
Drowned in a dripping cauldron of jealousy,
silently suffering in all the hate.