little liquid fire fingers
spill in tendrils off your tongue
visible to only me and
daring me to run, run, run
but my legs are concrete columns
and no scream escapes my lips
as a mass of molten venom
swirls around your fingertips
every move you make releases
something else that's killing me
that won't stop you, you don't see it
so I'll suffer silently
finally my will is breaking
death weighs heavy on my chest
satisfied, you'll leave me to it -
jaded, I will acquiesce
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