Sharp lines, brushing over imperfect whites.
A deluge of perfected words streams through
pale cracked lips. Not mentioning wordless fights.
Staring daggers. You easily despise.
Backflip and front flip, you twist and contort.
Always grasping, always clawing your prize.
Not understanding that your teethe distort
what you hold dear. It blackens your two souls.
A poisonous love. Warms as its scouring.
A cancer. Consuming as it controls.
Seeping into everything. Devouring.
Cherished memories tainted. Devotion.
Jealousy, one word, simply emotion.
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