A Sickness To Which I Am the Cure

You poisoned my heart My beautiful, Beautiful heart Your sickly mouth Coated with venom spouting words meant to disarm And your heart Pumps Black oil through your Veins You only thirst for the taste of revenge, But yours is a thirst that will never be quenched And Still you remain Seeking opportunities to plant Seeds of doubt in My mind You once had a way with words That could distort The truth You shape shifter, chameleon liar I dedicated my life to bettering you But You Oh you You poisoned my heart, To which forgiveness was once a part Feverishly I sweat For months I would cough up all of my regrets The paintbrush and my poetry Was the cure for all of your misery And your sickly mouth Can do no more damage to me.