If you were fire.
you would ignite from the tip of a cigarette,
your blaze would dance and flicker,
drawing my lips in.
I would inhale every single bit of your addictive being,
you would fill my lungs with thick, deadly smoke,
enough to make me sick.
I would exhale quickly,
blowing the smoke screen that is your lies,
back into the world for a true addict to find.
because smoking you would be a hobby,
not something I'd be truly invested in
right?  
I would cough and gag
promising my self to never come back to the poison that is you.
but my eyes would always wander and catch a glimpse of you, the fire..
dancing..
flickering...
and regrettably, I would inhale once again.
The funniest part is you're not fire, nor a cigarette,
you're a human being.
Yet you're still more beautiful, addictive and toxic then that flame will ever be, and just like the cigarette I always end up coming back for more. Always inhaling more then my flimsy lungs can hold.