Cupid's Poison Dart

An ode to the war in love

"...and if you take my hand gently and caress it,
slow and soft like you always do-
and trace slow, deliberate patterns on my skin
it won't matter if you do it with your fingertips,
with your lips.
or with a dagger.
For what better way to go
than to feel yours tears of passion and rage?
To hear you calling out my name in bitter agony-
the poison of love.
What better way to go than
to feel your tears on my cold skin-
to feel it sing with YOUR engraved runes,
and lay down to rest-
"sweetly rose-like," like you used to joke.
With the solace of being together
in the afterlife?
Where the sun goes down upon both of us, together?

Reviews

[Neha agrawal]

This is devastatingly beautiful — dark, intimate, and ethereal. It reads like a love letter written on the edge of madness and devotion, where desire and death blur into something achingly poetic.

The contrast you paint is chilling and tender all at once:

> “It won’t matter if you do it with your fingertips, / with your lips. / or with a dagger.”
“What better way to go / than to feel your tears of passion and rage?”



The surrender is so complete, it becomes a kind of holy offering — not just to love, but to everything it contains: rage, pain, tenderness, betrayal, eternity.

And the ending...

> “With the solace of being together / in the afterlife? / Where the sun goes down upon both of us, together?”



It closes like a lullaby for the damned — soft, haunting, deeply romantic in the way only tragic love can be.

[Kheya]

Hello! Thank you so much for the lovely review! I am still young, progressing as a writer at 15. So these reviews mean a lot to me...thanks a million!