These poison drops release from your lips
and I don’t recall the color of the venom
but I remember how they infected me
and how they drowned in my indigo veins.
And because I am infected,
this poem will never arrive to her finale.
So, serpent, be glad for you killed me.
and as I scream and yell towards the sky,
Remember that I always loved you.
I needed you.
But instead of healing the wounds,
You created them.
It’s getting darker…
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