Aforementioned:

Your hair was a sweet and sugary syrup on the blank canvas of your afterthoughts

After the monster in your mouth grappled with the incense dimly lighting your tonsils,

He ended each fingertip with a salvaging dance along your cuticles

And this is the story behind the poison you injected into your pitying phrases

This is the story between the decision you made and the numbness you experienced afterwards,

While glowing glory out behind the bends of your elbows