most of the time i'm sick to my stomach
with the thought that you'd be better off without me;

poison love,
how you've invaded my body
and marked the inside of its skin,
the space between my organs,
the blood running through me

it has started to paralyze me,
poison love,
but there is an edge to that toxicity
that i am continuously falling for

or is it you i am loving?
the line separating the two has begun to blur
because your hands on me
have become synonymous with hurt

and i love it
but still i am scared you will leave me;
poison love, i know i am simple
i am bland and unlovable
but i need you to breathe

i need you

most of the time i'm sick to my stomach
with the thought that you'd be better off without me;
maybe that's exactly the kind of thought i need
to stop feeling so sick.