It's 3 am and I hear the last trickle of rain fall from my roof
I take another inhale of my last cigarette as I try to force sleep upon my weary mind but I can't
it's churning with memories of the way you caressed my body
I allowed you to trail your fingers over every one of my imperfections because you whispered in my ear that I was breathtakingly beautiful
I can still feel the heat of your breath on my neck and the burning of your fingertips beneath my skin
And I wonder if the girl you're with now is burning alive
You lit me on fire and had the audacity to never put me out
I wish I could save her from your havoc
I hate you
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC