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.
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