Consumed by your slow poison, my soul sits scorched within me.
In moments of weakness, you slither in,
Creeping silently— ready to strike.
Fangs glistening as your smile widens,
Your forked tongue darting, daring.
Beautiful and cold, yellow eyes hypnotic—
Playing games in my mind, warped and unreal.
Coiling around my neck, I yearned for some warmth—
Instead, you squeezed so tightly, my body became cold to touch.
Naivety is trusting the viper,
Foolishness is letting the creature rest in your bed.
I am not medusa, ill-fated love did not turn me vicious,
I no longer cherish your slow poison.
My gaze is just and pure,
Look into my eyes and see these good intentions.
Yet I cannot forget,
To kill a snake you must cut off its head.