The Same Old Rotting Juice

A woman I knew Who consumed the poison From the sight of blood that rotted gradually. All she could do was imagine the smell And view a corpse bound to rot. Blood is thicker than water That blood was half of hers But she masked the faint smell in rotting juice. Everyone knew She knew. One claims to know the holistic answers Until they are faced with the same condition. I understand her Smelling a corpse that has not yet rotted Eyeing the body that will soon fall. Black mist lingers. Nothing shines upon them in your eyes anymore. The wacky laugh becomes unsettling When the empty mouth opens. There is nothing funny to laugh at When the laugh almost wasted him away. The joke does not exist When the joke exists inside the scrambled brains of eight years. Innocence is sweet Ignorance is perfect. Now the woman saw the corpse for what it wanted The rotting smell wasn’t so bad Blood became thicker than ever. Water became her companion. Others await in the same wait. Disturbed by the sight of the soon-to-be rotting body Unsure of what to do Except to drink the rotting juice.