The methodological "love" you gave me

The thunderstorms you would create with 

your words

have been inked into my skin

run through my veins and

poisoned me with your 

"love"

i long for the way your electrified my soul 

one more time

but

 should've realized when your touch 

burned my skin

that fire is a dangerous thing to play with 

and 

i always wondered what your words meant

when you said that 

you loved me,

but  the daisies you grew beneath my ribcage have slowly 

wilted and rot 

and I  have left your 

"love"

long ago.