The Poison.

I swallow the last drop and letting it slither down my throat full of burning desire, where the bright green eyes taunting me to drink even more.

I let myself decide. My shaking hands bringing the bowl to the edge of my lips, where I delicately sip through my clenched teeth.

It was strong, warm and finally ice cold.

I blur my vision with a dreaming desire and let myself lay amongst the broken bombshells of rubble.

I close my eyelids, with my featherlike body rest against the metal beams, hair sprawled dipping itself in the puddle drops of blood.

I smile faintly, silently gasping for my final breath, before I go to sleep.

By (c) Zona Heera.

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Somehow, somewhere, I wish I could do be this person. I’m drying internally, and I hate the IB. Enuff’ said.

– zona-

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