I am the destroyer.
I bat my lashes and
Smile so sweetly—
So that you won't notice my acid tongue until my words burn through your skin.

I am blunt and bruising.
My gentle touch will lull you to sleep while my other hand twists the knife.

When the world licks its wounds
There am I—salt in hand— ready to remedy the wrongs I've done.
But I'll enjoy the sting
And I'll pull the bandage too tight.
The world will smile at my handiwork
And slowly choke to death.