Sweetness got cold... again,
cold toes and fingers,
dried lips and nostrils.
Sweetness held her right knee
to chide the pain that swallowed up the joint.
She couldnt fight her way through this one, atleast not alone.
Every time she saw her reflection, the reflected image would blur.
Broken mirrors trickle blood.
Candles spoke of a promise to suffocate her.
Guilt in person is the chandelier above your heads.
Its stare, the weight of an entire mansion.
Piece by piece, sweetness grew sour.
Outside the wooden spectacle of her painted steel doors were daggers,
daggers that held their own weight
daggers that spoke of her recent previous days,
daggers that promised the winter...