Jade Bagnall's untitled poem is a break-up piece, spoken by someone who has finally had enough of a person who lied and manipulated. The speaker opens with a firm refusal, "Never again will I let you in," and blames the other person's twisting words for breaking things. From there the tone turns sharply direct. She asks for honesty ("at least once speak the truth") and accuses the other person of never really being present.
The central image is the snake. Sweet taste can't disguise venom, so charm and kind-sounding words no longer fool her. By the end, "Little snake" sounds both scornful and weary. The final lines are bitterly sarcastic: she suggests that distance was the other person's plan all along.
The mood is angry but also tired and hurt. The speaker sounds like she's reclaiming control, yet the sting of being left behind still shows through the mocking words.