rhetoric.

When you spoke, your words were silk and lace.
Pretty things from under your tongue.
You talked about stars and oceans like you created them.
And she believed you.
Cupped your love in her hands, trying to keep it from falling between her fingers.
Your lies were so sweet and they went down easily.
When you speak now, blood curdles in your mouth.
Broken fingers and broken arms, her hands are nothing more than dead middlemen.
You handed her grenades instead of soft kisses and she swallowed them whole.
You're starting to lose your voice.
She can't hear you anymore, when she gave you everything, she gave you her ears too.
Now you watch as the fire you started consumes her.
And while the ash falls like soft rain, you start to wonder
Who can you poison next?