I loved him before knowing him well— Fell harder on the thought he might fall as well. Days passed, I took things as sign's, and lies as truths.
Daily, his poison became my desire, Through tender kisses and generous embraces; I mistook for love this perilous fire, Drank his venom with desperate desire.
Like naive Eve, who without a serpent's hiss, Took the apple, unaware of the betrayal in a kiss.
Blinded was I by this masquerade of affection, Believed that true love was akin to affliction. Beauty, they say, often comes with a sting, So I shunned the alarms that my companions would bring.
Though whispers of warning echoed deep within, I was entangled in webs spun from his venomous grin. I loved him, it's true, in a most toxic fashion, Praising sparse gestures, mistaking control for passion.
His minimal kindness seemed a prize to claim, Proof, I thought, that he could indeed be tamed.
To hold onto hope, I ignored the glaring proof, That love isn't meant to hurt, but too help yourself bloom.