i bet you don't write anymore. and if you do i'll never read it. i was sick and sad and i ruined everything. you'd be surprised at what i still remember.
i romanticize who you were and where i've been. god knows love sure as hell isn't what we thought it was. for too long, i was young and stupid. back when your hands were still in my hair. i swept everything beneath the rug, for years it sits, hidden, soaking into the floor. when i speak of you now, "an old lover, a friend" those pieces of december have long slipped from my hands.
your eyes were so god ****** beautiful and i was a beast and a *****. you were my eve, but i took the apple and gave it to the snake.