Writing

We are not of this world. It poison us...

Situations I've endured many a time, fortunately.

EVEN THOUGH THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM, MANY PEOPLE DO DIE BECAUSE THEY PICK THE WRONG KIND OF MUSHROOMS TO EAT.

I felt inspired, this is what happened when you feel love.

Poisonous relationships. We are so intoxified by our partners, that we are willing to stay - even if it is deadly.

A garden so peaceful, Even Eve would take another bite.

Sometimes silence is like choking on words. Caught in my throat, on the tip of my tongue.

Beneath the manchineel tree my father is laid to rest for he desired to relish the poisonous fruit the creaking branches bore.. he beckoned..

Tags poisonous