poison girl.
Self portraits made out of ashes, nothing was ever truly made to last.
You wanted a snake ever since you were a little girl, did their venom call to yours? Your poor mother asked for a mouse and got a viper instead.
Inhale carcinogens, exhale something much worse, every time you open your mouth something deadly slips out. Unnatural smiles glinting in the dark lure him in, but it’s the venom in your fangs when you bite his lip that deals the deadly blow.
Nails drag along thighs and up spines leaving crimson ribbons pooling in their wake.
Forked tongues tie cherry stems into little bows and kiss men they shouldn’t. It seems like party tricks and luxury sins are all you live for these days. You haven’t slept in days but your bloodshot eyes glitter like rubies in the glow of your cigarette butt.
Lust is a color you could never see, but they tell you it is the same color as pain.
ask Mr. Mouse what lust looks like and he looks back at you, ask him what pain looks like and he looks back at you.
Your mother told you never to play with your dinner, but “what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her” you tell yourself but the smile you flash the mirror shows a little too much fang for innocence. The girl in the mirror has hungry eyes, an insatiable carnivore already looking for her next meal.
That night you took a bath so hot you thought you might finally feel something. Smoke lingers in the air above you like a halo as you take another drag. Being lost is scary but what’s scarier is when destruction is the only path that feels like home anymore.
Your mother wanted a pet and instead she got poison wrapped up in a pretty little package, and you loved your mother dearly but you never changed, only grew older and bit harder.
You are seventeen now and couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to.
