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WROTE THIS AT 5AM AND CRIED A LIL SO HERE GOES

Again, the clock strikes time that is forbidden. 

The time my mind’s afraid but never runs.

Shame of something that has not yet happened.

I know it will,

Because it always does.

Anatomy has cursed me with an essence,

Much rather I’d prefer not to be sexed.

Never to notice, never to feel sorry 

For what will happen- always- if those qualities I do possess.

And while I vomit into my own conscience, 

I feel a thrill that mustn’t be discussed;

It lives.

But only for the moment 

When I indulge in self-destructive acts.

I feel no pity. 

I’m egoistical in mortal second.

And then- I’m back to being who I am.

A pervert.

Hidden, in the vessel of a Mary,

That hangs above me like a guillotine.

I reek of weakness, blood of those imagined.

I’m poisoned. Suicidal rot, 

Where stop signs should have been.

Again.

I slip inside again to check

if there is something left worth saving.

One day, the halo will collapse

The Carbon Dioxide she exhales into the cigarette- the flower at the tip of which blooms whenever smoke is made- is split (by the power of lore) into Carbon Monoxide and Oxygen. Oxygen helps the smoke spread as it is flammable (cigarette is lit), and Carbon Monoxide makes the opponent suffocate! The vials contain sickly sweet perfume/fuel.

Whenever you are near her, you fell lightheaded because of her coat- made from the perfume fog. ‘Clients’ assume it is only them ‘swooning’ (in reality, they are suffocating to death).