I lie
(physically and verbally)
on phrases and metaphors,
cutting my back on
the sharp edge of a pen.

She comes out past nine
and dances a mockery around my body,
talking and walking and risking her life
all for a bit of light;
how is it that you're the Gemini
yet I end up with two personalities.

My goal is to love everyone
completely and purely
for the rest of my life
and so far I've found no complications.
(This knife in my back is nothing more than a
minor discomfort.)

I can openly describe myself as crazy.
You purse your lips at the words
and turn away your eyes
because you're scared of all things venomous;
you don't want to be a statue.
I'm no Medusa.
I will just bring you down.

This morning I lost my tongue
and I tasted nothing but venom.
I hope you don't mind if I can't converse
like I used to,
but I'll still be here to back you up.

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