Its like I speak but the words vanish like dust
Because it just goes in one ear and out the other
Just like you always seem to go in one door and out the other
And its like I'm buying your happiness
Because you smile at my expense
But  you can never get enough so you take every ounce of love I have for you and spend it on messages you would never let me read
Its just hard because we built this relationship out of your lies and my mustard seed faith stopped growing but I still kept coming back.
And why?
Maybe its because the pain is a reminder that the love was real
It's a reminder that "we" once existed.
That the hour of happiness existed before you relapsed and I found out.
You injected me with your demons, they lived in the house you built in my veins.
The blood that was once a vivid red, stayed blue because the only oxygen that would hit it would be consumed by the breaths you shared with her.
I inhaled your inability to love anybody other than you. Your secondhand smoke clouded my vision and took over my brain.
You became my every movement and response and the thing keeping me alive.
You were my rehab.
Took my every addiction and made it you.
And I couldn't stop. I just kept injecting you. I kept breathing you.
Then you left.
And I looked in the mirror and saw that I had become who you are.
I had mimicked your every emotion, expression, and words.
And I was nowhere to be found.