LOVE THE CANCER. 

​It started with a small scratch, 

Then developed to a wound, 

A wound that I would never want to dry up, 

LOVE.

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SO WHAT DID LOVE DO TO HIM? 

Lips​

As crimson

As the blood

In her mottled veins.



Eyes

As black

As his dark,

Ashen, heart of stone.



Hands,

As cold

As his icy

Gaze, around her throat.



Feet

As dirty

As the ground

He’s dragged her across.



Silence

As he

Lowers her body

Into the shallow grave.

#poetInstincts.