[metaphorically speaking]

i suffocate on suffixes
and im trying to write this right
you meet me in the margins
and then skip a line twice
this pen is the perfect poison
words laced with venomous bite
you cant fight this infectous kiss
but you can try with all your might
ink flows through my veins and arteries
flowing through all different parts of me
i write sparingly, sparing me from
a bonifide wordicide, personified in script
as ink bleeds across all the pages
fountain pen flowing from this wrist
these words empty me of everything
metaphors slice my soul like a knife
"if it hurts why keep going?"
well, I guess it's out of spite