In November I met brown eyes
I was held captive in a gaze,
entrapped in a conversation
Stuck on every word,
intoxicated by every syllable

In December I fell for stupid lies
I believed every word that came out of his mouth
He spoke poetry to to me,
with a forked tongue
What I failed to realize
is that some of the most beautiful patterns
belong to snakes

In January I cried
I realized my mistakes invested in him
He never spoke poetry,
just silver lies
The beauty in the things he had told me,
rehearsed verses for the ones before me

In February I realized
Maybe things were not meant to be
Every snake deserves love,
but some can't find that without destroying others first

In March I decided*
That it was best to let go
Even if he did destroy me,
I know my heart was genuine.