Molded adjectives

Smokey darkness surrounds the pupils in my eyes.
Lumps of air and spit are getting wedged into my throat.
My tongue is dry and all I can taste are your words.
As they envelop me I fall more and more away.

Gripping into my wrists, they want me to feel pain.
Wanting to feel isolation, eyes reminding me of ache.
Tears slip down my cheeks, burning like acid.
As one slips onto my lips, ice overcomes me now.

My bottom lip quivers, as spit barely covers the top.
Eyes close tighter, trying to create a barrier for these tears.
Breath quickens as you look at me with satisfaction.
You have done it, captured me with your venom.

Words suck deeper into my flesh, all I feel is adjectives.
Scrambling over my body like tiny bugs on dirt.
I though, am lower then dirt in your twisted thoughts.
Well to me dirt has never tasted so tantalizing.

So spit on me those adjectives, for I am stronger now.
You are nothing but, another bruise upon my heart.
Molding into a form of blue along the others among it.
Blue, bright, and mysterious, possibly my new color.