August 19, 2011
By , stamford, CT

Feel the strings of your

Heart as they tug you

Forward, propel you into

Bliss; despair.


The clock ticks, an

Everpresent reminder your

Time is finite, your

Chance is slipping.


A sweet anodyne awaits you,

If you will only first feel the

Bitter fangs of a coiled viper.


A step forward is a

Step ahead, but

which way are you looking?


One final push, the

Air, heavy with perfume

Or poison gas, does it

Truly make a difference?


The worlds sting, pain deep.

The heartsrings snap the

Clock face melts the

coiled viper strikes she

pushes the plunger on a syringe

filled with words, cyanide.

Inhale. Gasp. She says no.

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