My Love

It is only fair that I warn you, my love. I'm a vial of poison, and you are the one who believes it is of sweet red wine.
Although I do suppose they appear the same.

Please understand, everything that crosses my path,
everyone I touch turns to stone. I drag them one by one with thorn covered ropes over my shoulders and stand them evenly apart in the barren gardens of my soul.

Not as trophies, but reminders of the many who have lost this impossible game of tug of war. There, they are the only decorations that dot the vast desserts of snow under the skies of my stark eyes.

Every now and again a new statue will rise up from the pages of fate. Their numbers grow and crowd the land faster than they crumble to snowflakes that add on to the ones before them, faster than the time it takes for me to move on from each.

Soon enough will they all be swallowed, sunk into the quicksand.
And soon enough, I shall follow not too far behind.
And perhaps you shall be the last.
Perhaps you will be the reason I become hollow.

So, now that you understand, are you still willing to spill your blood in exchange for my love?

- Zizzy M

- Zizzy M.