You're just killing yourself.
Your eyes grow more dim,
the night flooding your vision.
Your mouth speaks of things
only said when lust kisses your lips.
Your mind retreats to the darkest corners
where the light will never shine.
Your heart has turned to stone, to ice,
and even the blazing fires melt it not.
All because of the poison.
You knew it was poison.
You knew it even before you put
the chalice to your lips.
You took one sip.
Savored each drop with their
sickly-sweet aroma controlling your being.
Now a multitude of empty glass bottles
is strewn around on the floor,
shattered pieces and jagged edges.
And it's still poison.
But have hope.
There will come a day where
you retch it up with your whole being,
the bitter aftertaste of regret
refusing to leave you be.
You'll stop the death of your self.
Then will your eyes shine
brighter than the center of the sun.
Then will you break the kiss
you kept only for yourself.
Then will your mind emerge from the shadows,
surrounded in an aura of white light.
Then will your heart melt, crack,
take back its form in flames.
Then will you be..