you

you are the last drink I never should have drunk
you are the body hidden in the trunk
you are the habit I can't seem to kick
you are my secrets on the front page every week

you are the car I never should have bought
the train I never should have caught
you are the hurt that makes me hide my face
you are  the party that makes me feel my age

Like a bird that never learned to fly,
you swallowed me in and left me here to die
you're the code I never learned break
you are the poison that  makes my body ache

you are the soup that just got too cold
you are the hand that causes me to fold
like the poem that never quite rhymed
you are the lost one that no one ever should find