he reeks of cigarette fumes, with unwashed hair that crooked smile you always fancied
while i  smelled like burnt pages of confessions & misery written in the early hours of dawn my morose thoughts spilled into a journal which i choose to douse with gasoline & ignite in my mother's kitchen sink; my face barely cracking a smile because i was to busy trying to calm my nerves whenever im with you the concept of ****** expression escaped from the threshold of my mind
yet ironically i find that the only thing that i could express is hatred towards my own self, by breaking my skin in halves it was the closest thing that comforts me next to your presence

oh i could almost hear the  flutters of butterfly in your tummy as you watches every word coming out of his mouth, while mine is full of rusting razors cutting through my insides as i attempt to swallow the pain of being in love with your bestfriend's girlfriend