Bad Habits

I smoked my first cigarette at thirteen,

I imagine my lungs are black with tar.

 

But by far, the most destructive thing I did,

Was to fall in love with you.

That was wildfire, burning everything I came into contact with,

Turning me into a pile of smouldering ash.

Flames that licked me up and down,

Infesting my thoughts like a million fire ants,

Suddenly, everything was you.


I am better now than I was before, I smoke less than I did,

Now, love is no longer fire to me.

It is water.

It is floating on my back riding a calm ocean wave, hearing the tide lap gently against the shore.

I’m unsure whether I crave the intensity that you brought,

When I’d leave you, shaking and anxious for more.

I love the calmness I have now,

But thereĀ is no escaping,

I have always had a taste for

Destruction.

And you were always a bad habit,

I could not shake.

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