Sliding to the Edge of Oblivion

I find the edges of you
rimmed with poison
to which I have no antidote.

So I curl
within my walled fortress,
trust no one.
All are flavoured with murder.

This is my truth.
A backwash of terror
impossible to flourish in.

Briny water that leaches soil,
kills all living things.

It is a song of life and death,
of love and failure -
a disability to thrive.

Crunched in silence,
searching for peace,
grains of murder roll through me -
a fascination with death
that brings no comfort.

Your edges are rimmed with poison,
but I must taste them -
like a salt-edged tequila shot,
promise of oblivion.

I want to say that fear has no part of this,
but fear imbues every flavour.

I don't know if any of it matters -
the murder, the poison, the fear.

I lie here and watch another dawn show up
with her golden eyes and bag
full of opportunities for salvation.