You're a long word I can't pronounce.
I don't understand you.
You are a chemical pattern.
Just when I think you aren't.
It turns out you always were.
Every time.
You are a bottle of something strong.
You burn on the way down.
I would say that you're water.
But you're not.
You're a serum.
You're a cure.
But you're a sickness no one knows about.
But I don't have it like they do.
My strain is something new to you.
You are burned into my DNA.
I couldn't help but love you.
Which is the saddest story
that I know.