A poison stings her veins.
Rushing through the thin, metal off ramp into the internal high way
The traffic jam of blood cells, colliding with a new foreign vehicle.
The destination, the brain.
She does it to mute the pains.
Pushing through the thin, satin veil of a blissful, smiling frame
The hatred scorching just below the surface, singeing the frays of her sanity.
The destination, the soul
Chaos as her bitterness gains
Blushing through the tear-drenched, fleshy cheeks, like blood-red roses
The very life of her feigning, just a myth amongst the gluttony for death
The destination, the depths of hell
Cries of agony as misery reigns
Crushing through her skull, into the fragmented, scattered pieces of thought
The beginning of the end, cutting her down, ripping her in two
The destination?
Nowhere fuckin’ fast…
