You

You were cigarette smoke in a tiny living room,

While Son’s of Anarchy played in the background

And the single mattress on the floor became home.

You were late night walks in the bitter cold of winter,

While we talked endlessly about everything and nothing.

You were Lana Del Ray and illegally downloaded movies,

While our housemates argued over Skyrim

And drank vodka in their bedroom.

You were the first man I considered beautiful,

While we sipped disaronno

And I hustled you at Pool.

You were Honey Jack,

Straight,

With ice,

While Cradle of Filth blasted from the JukeBox.

You were grande coffees at Starbucks,

While you lied as easily as you drew breath

And I swallowed your honeyed words the way you swallowed Honey Jack.

You were full length leather jackets that I huddled under for warmth,

While you carefully prepared your mask to keep me falling in love.

You were poison,

Slow but deadly.

Like the cigarettes you taught me to roll.