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 there is no escaping,
I have always had a taste for
And you were always a bad habit,
I could not shake.