• My venom burns beneath my skin,
    from my memories past,
    I knew for sure,
    from the massacure,
    That it turned this rose black.
    Its thorns match the sharpness of my teeth,
    as it sinks into my gums,
    I bleed deeply,
    as it burns on my toungue.
    The venom burns through my skin,
    as acid in the dark,
    it burns into me,
    like fire on a tree's bark.
    Now you know why I suffer in sorrow,
    and it burns beneath my skin,
    and now you know why it burns you,
    again and again.



    -Kit