Her Poison years, 3 months, and 7 days later,
Jane Doe is still drinking the mercury she stole from her high school chemistry lab.
She sips the poison in secret.
Mixing it with her morning coffee,
she starts her day off with a dash of lunacy.
By dinnertime, her world is blanketed in a silver film
where poetry writes itself at stop lights
and the sun sets and rises North to South.
She is perpetuating her own mythology drop by drop.
As she waits for the day madness finally finds her,
she measures her life in millimeters instead of minutes.
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