Intoxicating.

She’s the poison.
She’s the life, the sight that makes you catch your breath and hold it.
She is sin in a glance.
She takes your heart at a word and breaks it in a silence.
You want to give her what she needs.
She’ll never know that what she needs isn’t what she wants.
What she wants is never enough.
She’s nothing special. No stunning looks, her touch doesn’t make you shiver.
But there’s something inside her, something addictive, and destructive.
She’s destructive to herself and others, constantly.
She’s beautiful in her deception, lovely in her subtle harshness.
It’s over in a moment, and you watch as she goes on to break another, as well as herself.
Make new wounds, more precious. The next one will want to fix her, too.
It’s an endless process, ironic as it proceeds.
You envy her, the intoxicating quality she needs no effort to put forth.
Bring on the heart break, darling.
You’re ready to take it.
Just let yourself become consumed, and she’ll become consumed in you.
It’s a tragedy from the first, life in a flash and gone in the end.
Screams make you feel, once again.
Nothing is as real as she was.
Breathe, it takes effort.
She was the poison in your mind, but not anymore.
Now she’s just a person, imperfect, and never whole.
It’s time to go in search of yourself again.