Lethal

The taste of the apple is sweet.
As its venom drips down her chin.
leaving gentle trails of mangled skin.
Lethal they say.
She knows one will kill her,
this one, it is hers.
"Lethal" She shouts.
Joyous in the face of her own demise.
Grinning she rips more from the poisoned flesh,
sinking pearls into
white,
she is turning.
Down, in the sweet,
sweet,
toxins of this one fruit.
This one, she has claimed as her own.
she wishes she would.
As it overflows her mouth,
Flooding over her face,
more juices.
"Lethal" she mutters.
As rich, thick, murky life
runs up her throat,
bubbles at the back.
The copper tinge takes none from the
heaven of the bane she has taken in.
"Lethal" She gurgles.
She does not rasp for breath,
fight for life.
No.
She does not offer an apology.
No.
Nor does she offer any closure, of any kind.
No,
She only has left to give,
and apple core.
Held in her hand as she chokes out what her mother would sing to her;
"Sweet as sin, An apple may be,
But costs are much higher,
than that of which grows on a cherry tree."