𝔹𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖, 𝕓𝕪 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕘𝕠

𝗣𝗼𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗻

Drink up, my dear

Swallow this saccharine poison

The end is near

Don't worry. .

The poison will travel

Slowly trickling through every vein

Don't worry

You'll never feel this way again

You'll burn to ashes

Or perhaps turn to vapor

None of their old torture will touch you

Not the whips, not the lashes

How did you even

Wander all the way here

When you were previously in a garden

Full of blooming flowers, does, and deer

Poisoned,
Margo