She was embedded

with cursive fonts and bold print;

tied around the neck with a silk ribbon,

a secret stashed away, an evident hint.

Tainted a shade of crimson blood,

she's a spill, a stain;

a deceptive, addictive drug with false promises

of alleviating pain.

And it shall so easily be loosened,

your so-called grip on control;

she'll untie your tight knots,

and will never give back what she stole.

She'll burn your insides

to ashes till they corrode;

sticking down your throat,

until your heart beat slowed.

Beautiful on the outside, kind too,

but taste her wish you not;

for she's the same demon,

whose trap I fell through.