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《Memento Mori》xxxiii. i'm the quiet toxin

plump pink lips, salmon shades of a smile, bitter cruel sink of her lips, shady dark eyes,

heavy walls, vulnerable insides,

a knife on the edge,

sour comments, over my hand on another,

pacifying the sea, quite the toxin that hides.

moving from a paper to another, but i will refuse,

to use my hands on the same body, let it in.. take a glimpse of my smile.

blue scattered breaths,

defusing light on my lips,

the dark scent of my world,

the dark tongue that leaves them

on the edge, leaves them coming back for more.

optional is the women that the

poet meets, permanent is the one that chose to water the flowers, to accept the familiar tone of lucifer with a pure scream.

she quite reminds me of hell, devilish and stubborn, dreamy but lacking the push.

sleeping like she has never been loved, when time ticks, she cries when I'm not the one,

like how chase crypts, 'gave her my word', but darling, still runs.

leaving this pain to recover, hoping the venom doesn't melt into my skin,

doesn't drown us,

please do make sense of time, make sense of the decision,

and make sense of logic, you quiet toxin.

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