You

Sitting there

Briskly whisking

Shades of red venom

On your artificial nails

Bold and brassy

Unlike the toxic ice

That pumps through my veins

I have followed the rules

I have mimicked your infatuation

For slavery to the standards

I have tried my best

With intentions of success

But now I am the one to blame

For doing what Mother Says Is Best

You

Sitting there

Painting your nails

And Ichoke behind self-conjured bars.