My Infectious Vapors Poem by Matthew Boisjolie

When i walk, I look to the right,
and see the flowers lower, and begin to brown,
from the vapors that protrude from my skin,
when i ask you a questions,
i look over and see your eyes roll back into your head,
like a slot machines, hitting jackpot,
before you fall to the floor motionless,
hitting your head, and causing a coma of pain,
millions of burn souls screaming for an excape,
the black inside me, hidden by the bright aura,
seems to come out and attack when least expected,
poison stems from my wounds, spilling into the world,
and causing cancer, heart problems, migraines, stress,
infecting anyone and anything i come close too,
spreading my darkness, my black, my charcoal heart,
i push it away, and show my true self, but it seems to control,
overwhelm, outsource,
darkness seems to follow me, taunt me, hide in me,
i try to keep myself locked up, so my friends, my family, my acquaintances,
WILL NOT fall victim to my infectious vapors.