Lace Doused in Honey

she wore a stained red lip anytime she went out, it highlighted the lies she was about to tell. making up occupations and heart breaks that sounded like lace doused in honey. she was incredibly smokey and appeared like a black widow spider, all purring and warm so she could make love to you and then devour the contents of your brain, the contents she had created and placed there, leaving you with a scar that looked like chewed bubble gum left on the pavement on a hot summer day. her heels matched her fingernails, the claws of a lioness. she clicked them on surfaces, as if a siren's call, luring anyone into her grasp. she could be meek and humble and compassionate and kind, but once she shed her serpent's skin she was tough and mean and fierce and irrational. she adored pain, feeling and inflicting it. she was empty and full all at the same time, like a gun always being shot and loaded. she had no real plans or desires, no real motives or agendas.. she was deeply unsatisfied with herself and only found redemption in the demeaning of others. twisted and ragged, she was exactly what people found enticing and was a pretty little trap for anyone looking for solace in a black cloud.