there was a grey tempest, laced with white, it reminded her of a turbulent of a storm, like a unyielding, rapid circling of a cloud, and the wisps of the wind caught in the midst of her thick eyelashes and mascara, until the fluidity hue of those dripping, droplets of doom withered the pores of her creamy, rose-tinted skin, hallowing the round, course of her swollen cheeks, she was the epitome of wasted time and sleep deprivation. read 3:15am and do you think i said something wrong? mama told me that “ love was nothing but a poison” and maybe i should’ve listened.

love comes in a form of an arrow, the steel tip glistening with the sticky, sweet the taste of maraschino cherries, (straight from the glass of cheap liquor that so teasingly wrapped around his chapped lips), it seeped into her chest, melt like wax over white bone, and set ablaze through her fiery veins; full of a ferocious ferocity, just like the fiery pits of hell, and that was the first time she felt sin enter her heart.

you know what they say,

the first sin is a forever sin; hell does not so easily forget.