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Who knows anymore? She's drinking the poison, but I am telling her no
She wants what will hurt her
I don't even know why
She doesn't know it's poison, but thinks it's mere juice
I know it's poison, I mixed it myself, for my own use
I didn't mean for it to fall into her hands, I thought I was being careful
And now, I want to save her from the pain
She has drank this poison before
and every time it hurts her, every time she cries
I don't want to see her cry when it turns sour
I beg her to consider it more deeply
she says no because the poison has a sweet taste
But she doesn't remember the bitter aftertaste
I still don't understand, even the sweet taste isn't worth any of it
But as long as the poison is there, I know she will drink it
and the poison, having a life of it's own, can not be destroyed
Please...let the poison be
what has it ever done for you to make you keep wanting it?
Unable to sway her, I wait until the poison does it again, and I will be needed once more...
Awesome write from the mouth
Awesome write from the mouth of he "bittersweetpoison" herself!! ( catchy name ;-) ) You can't stop some people. They acquire a taste for hemlock on ice, and there is something about it that those who find it too salty or sour, or bitter, will never understand. Everything is always as it should be. We all grow in own way.
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
this is fucking excellent.
this is fucking excellent.