waxy lips tight veins purple blotched skin
trembling heartbeats and the words of witches, long dead gardens of vines
a reason to hope and a cause for guilt
coughing up the flimsiest of thoughts and broken teeth
what a dream, what a life
if you died tomorrow, what would you do today? (i would die today)
you should know about the incisions of your words along my ribs
i taste blood on your tongue when I kiss you, red stained hands are of no concern
you ripped words from my lungs while i choked on the arm down my throat
“look how beautiful you are” you whisper with fingers twisting my hair
you pried out the poems I kept clenched between my teeth while I sobbed
“you’re killing yourself, don’t you know I love you?” a smirk plays on your face
you didn’t stop for pleasantries, you pulled symphonies straight through my flesh, you made me a slaughterhouse
“you’ve done it again” you raise an eyebrow as a chuckle escapes your prison bar lips
is it my fault that the only remaining verses are doused in gore?