It's Sunday night, and i am chasing my broken heart with a bottle of wine. I've not made it a single day without embracing a vice to fill my emptiness.
I've forgotten how to be comfortable without you here.
The the fact is, you broke me, and I'm done pretending like I don't care.
I'm thinking about all the things I'd give to be lying in your bed once more, exploring the mind and getting lost in the stories behind your tattoos.
I'm not a greedy person, but when it found listening to you, I usually wanted more. I possibly could have listened to you talk all night. The velvet touch of your voice sang me to rest like my personal favorite lullaby.
I'm thinking about your fingertips on my small skin igniting a fire, flames such as the smoke out of your cigarette.
American Spirits. Light blue.
A cigarette. That was how it all began with us anyway.
Immediately, you'd found your way into my orbit. Despite the fact that I had sworn I'd never allow myself to get tangled up in a cute boy’s pretty words again, you seemed like honey in my experience. I desperately craved a little bit of sweetness in my life.
Your body became my house.
And yeah, flickers of doubt had danced across my mind. However, you explained exactly what I needed to listen to. And I had an excessive amount of naivety buried within my bones to hear the dishonesty in your voice.
See, basically knew that things would wind up how they did, I wouldn't have asked you regarding your ex. I would not have introduced the idea of her so easily into your mind. I would have played it cool and ignored the fact that you still talked to her on a regular basis. The heavens she put in your sky hadn't quite burned out.
What hurts most is that I keep covering me and you like there was an us. In reality, there wasn't. There is just a month of me falling for you and also you using my body to keep the cold out during the night.
And now you're gone. And today I'm to smoking cigarettes out my window alone at 3:00 am rather than sharing all of them with you in your car.
Even amongst all the aching, all the sadness, all of the pain that lies weaved throughout my bones, I still consider you – more than you deserve.
I'm always considering you. You haven't left my mind since the night I met you.
And I'm done pretending that you meant nothing.
I know I'm probably romanticizing this entire situation more than it deserves. But something about you filled me with colors Irrrve never knew existed.
And I can not help but consider how the time we were together, she was on your mind. Whenever your lips were on my small skin, you had been considering her. Whenever you were saying that you wanted to keep me around, you most likely already knew that you would go to her.
What hurts me the most is you didn't provide us with an opportunity.
The second that you had the opportunity, you ran right back to her. You didn't even wait long enough in my scent to depart the skin. I bet you'll still tasted me in your mouth when you climbed back to bed with her.
As almost as much ast I don't want to admit this, I'd let you f*ck me over a thousand more times so long as it meant I'd perhaps you have back in my life.
I could get lost in you for the rest of my entire life.
Maybe one day you'll realize that the heavens on the horizon haven't shone as brightly because they did when I was in your life, and you will look for a little bit of my moonlight to brighten up your darkness.
And whenever you realize I am not there, maybe you'll get your phone, call me, and tell me you made an error.
And, as much as I hate to confess it, when that moment does come, I'll be here by having an open heart.
