The beautiful untouched land, I imagined us perfectly sat in the middle of fog and dew, music so clear and cigarette smoke dripping from our lips, so simple, so pretty.
Thin skin too easy to blemish, all I ever wanted was to stay perfect, small and delicate.
But we were never for child's play.
We were more like the flames dancing on the thin white paper, clouding lungs.
More like blood covering your hands, me in shock wondering how you ripped my heart out and it's still screaming your name.
More like our souls both glowing red, yet when they came together it still hurt.
And once my hair was done drying, I looked back at myself, expecting someone different to be standing in the mirror.
But as the girl I always feared stared back at me, I felt the calm before the storm, I had always been waiting to unfold.
You still love me anyhow, what a clever boy, itching for trouble, what a tragic story to be told.
