i kissed a pretty boy whose mouth reeked of cigarettes. i hate cigarettes.
i kissed a pretty boy whose tongue tasted like alcohol. so did mine probably.
i kissed a pretty boy who doesn’t really care about my feelings. it’s not like i give a **** about his.
i kissed a pretty boy. because he was there and you weren’t.
here’s the thing. we were kissing and he bit my neck and my lip and his hands were all over my body and at some point, i almost felt guilty that i was letting someone touch me who wasn’t you. but then i remembered that somewhere else you were thinking of her and touching her and not feeling guilty about it.
so i stopped caring, drank some more and kissed the pretty boy. because his lips left my skin burning. because he was there and you weren’t.