You seeped into my veins, barely there, almost nothing, like a habit I didnt see forming, moving through the cracks, going unnoticed. It felt natural, like we fit. Our thoughts circling back to the same place where everything made sense. Same understanding, same actions, like mirrors facing mirrors. Your words wrapped around me, like ivy strangling a stone. It felt like something real, like finding someone who understood me. I breathed you in, an intoxicating scent, you consumed me. I let you consume me. I could see how much of me was tangled up in you. I let myself believe it could mean something. Wondering why I let something so fleeting feel so safe. Maybe I liked the way It burned going down. Maybe I just wanted to believe. I’m clinging to something that never had roots. The end was written before we even began, but I let the poison in anyway, I drank it. I was hoping I’d be immune or that you’d decide to stay. Maybe I liked the way it hurt, or maybe I just couldn’t turn away from the way you made me feel real, like I meant something, like I was worth more. I let you in just to watch you walk away. Like I poisoned myself with something that would never be mine to keep. Still, I drank it. I let the pain linger, because how could something so beautifully venomous feel like home?