This impure toxin is Romeo

He was the foulest of disease, corrupting her bones, consuming her whole with  agonizing feeling.
He held her innocent and inexperienced heart in his earnest hands, promising he would cherish it with the greatest care. He promised no harm would ever befall her.
The most painful lie he ever told.
She knew of his harlot ways, but she still chose that path;
and now she felt her heart collapsing and fracturing into pieces of guilt and regret.

She fought for him, the foulest of men. She thought he was hers, a prize for being patient, her dues owed to her for battling the dark shadows of her mind...
but all in vain.
She felt her chest catching fire, tightening as the tears streamed down her ever-rosy cheeks.
She chilled her body with the thought of his deception and lies.


His hands dug into her wounds and  wrenched out all happiness that  was slowly healing the remnants of your presence.
She knew she mistreated you, but your presence still lingers there and reminds her of what she really deserves...
You'll never love her again, the thought of her is overwhelming for your indifferent heart, but she begs you, don't forget her.

Paradoxical kiss

"I see in you this wish to simplify me. To have me change and with singular purpose focused upon you, forsaking the darker shades of my creativity and licentiousness. It is beyond you to accept who I am and still love me the way you do.
Do you not see the paradox? In this change, the midnight creature you seek to captivate would no longer exist. I would cease to be this libertine of a woman. This vastly complex, frustrating, difficult, ridiculous woman is the embodiment of your desire, don't try and rectify that."

- Eloise

You need to stop caring.

I was a shadow of love, then. A mirage of the purity I wanted you to see reflected in me. Demons always dwelt in this temple of ruin - and I kept them from you... from everyone. I guarded my secret, sullied self with icy perfection, so that when you left, I ignorantly reassured myself that you never really knew me nor loved me. There was a sad solace in that.

You damned me for a few words of honesty I spoke to you at a party once, cuttingly polite, drunk with the strain of pretending not to want you. I succumbed to my shallow, yet fervent desires. I made a mistake that night. I finally revealed something of my true self; something dark that shattered the world you had balanced so carefully upon your denial.

I saw your pain then, and I see it now. Like the poison intoxicating your veins, like vermilion cigarette singes on the back of your heart, I tore through your ravaged soul. I told you it would come to this. A pasquinade you never truly accepted as realism.

I'm far past gone.

My tears asphyxiate me to the point where I can no longer feel my oscillating lungs,
My tears catch my breath to the point where I can no longer utter the remnants your name,
My tears blind me to the point where I can no longer see the malicious web I've woven,
My tears express the overwhelming pain I feel in my heart as it dissolutes for you,
My tears are the symbol of what a mistake I am.
My tears fall and crash dejectedly around me, leaving only the rubble to mark your departure.
You've left and all that remains is a glacial wind that chills the skeletons off trees.

Haerts on fire.

Stop feeling guilty about something that should make us happy. 

What’s done is done.

Most of us are bitter over someone.

We try to distract ourselves from ever missing them with the black splintered shards of subtances.

I'm forever missing them, Hamlet, Zeus, Antony.

But the past cannot be erased or changed, Romeo; so let's move forward with this new relationship.

The "Replacement"

Your tears fall so often they've formed an ocean as vast as the be-stilled horizon of the Arctic.
Forming an oasis so unreal, they've become the soothing liniment for your immortal pain.
To feel pain compensates little for feeling nothing at all.
Your heavy indifference on emotions has you cynical of this love.
The opposite of love is not indifference rather sadness, that the one to whom your affection is given loves not you but the one who preceded you.
You are the replacement.
The object of convalescing for him.

The frayed ends of my sanity.

The path my love follows fills a desolate heart with unrelenting guilt and moral decay, yet not regret.
Scenes replay in my mind like a marionette's lugubrious spectacle. I'm wholly consumed by the enslaving out pour of emotion that my lungs gasp for a zephyr of your scent.
My conscience is be-gnawed by shame and malfeasance, afflicted with such griefs that cause physical agony.

Heartrendingly, I deliberate the ingestion of arsenic to burn my veins clean and rid this impurity. Oh Ophelia. I've purloined Romeo from his beloved Juliet... and yet I look back on the day as if it was an unmistakably libidinous quandary....

How could he want me, entangled with mental and physical punctures, when such a queen is sitting gracefully on her sumptuous and ethereal throne? I tear at the merciless and perpetual echoes that consume my evanescent soul... my flaws mark your absence and are left for him to heal with the affection you never provided.