I am intoxicated by the way you said you loved me,

Because when I try to open up again, now that is all I am able to recall. 

I am so done being reminded of the way you touched me,

Mind, spirit, body and all. 

Never tell me not to believe that I am worthy of the love you couldn’t give to me,

Just because you didn’t love yourself enough. 

I mean, damn, 

You couldn’t call yourself anything more than 

A wannabe, and that was never a glass half full for either of us. 

You have intoxicated yourself with the belief that you are anything more than a person who messes with the emotions

Of the innocent. 

You have venom in your blood and it courses through your veins,

Making it natural for you to place others in blame. 

You have toxin in you heart and it travels to your brain, 

Making a natural remedy for disaster, and zero refrain. 

I have experienced the intoxication of what you see and know as love,

But you intoxicated yourself just enough

For both, yes both of us.