Cobain of my existance (old poem)

To My Heroine,
You: daintily as graceful as an off-white
pigeon posing as a dove. Your love,
Poison;
Mercury, an exhilarating rush
Of ever changing toxicity,
Your varying viscosity clogs my veins.
You: a dirty needle, a musty syringe.
Me: naïve, addicted to the rusty pain
Of letting you pierce my system, again
And again, and I gain nothing.
A fleeting shot of adrenaline,
A final pop, a funneling from the heart
Into you: a shit stained sieve
storing my wasted affection. You: part other lover
and part bowel infection.
You: the delicate tulip, nourished by me:
the manure.
You’re an irresistible skewering, a delightful sin.
I send this gift, plain page, marred
with your black tar, to you,
My Heroin.

its an old one. felt like i should post it now. :).