rims of irises

Cold

Is my mold that I grow

A cancerous spawn dotting my skins

In the heavy rain I cry in

I spurn

It all - an epitome of greed

The kiss on my forehead is not for me

Only she can taunt me

Debasing gleams down to my feet

What am I?

A crack from demise

Falling under self-esteem cries

Motherfucking trusting hearts

Never wanting more than to depart

From the noises in my head

It's kinda like a death by sword