Ivy leaves and vines
Weave along my arms.
A burning sensation creeps
Into my chest as I gasp for air,
Drowning in thoughts of “If only”.
My perfectly brewed poison, self-made.
Violent thoughts paired with plastic smiles
– Oops, I bit my tongue too hard.
My admiration distorted by possessiveness.
Claw through the layers of your skin
And let me clamber into it
– See? You fit like a glove.