a dance with the devil | poetry

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝

each saccharine stab fills you with satisfaction
warm breath meets your cheek and
candied cherry blood hits tile and
you ponder
why you would hurt something so sweet
but the smell twists your senses
euphoria mangles your mind
and you're left cleaning the floor
until it all washes away and
as you look down at your cerise stained hands
you think
what have i done what have i done what have i done