Happy endings

When we met I was set on fire. You lit a match and ignited 

a fuse I didn't know I had.

Late nights and short shorts, shivering under blankets

while you pulled me closer.

Early mornings, sitting on concrete curbs taking drags of your

cigarette.

I was drunk on you while I was drowning in a beautiful crystal blue liquor 

that made my lips tingle and my throat numb in the same way you did.

Summer came around and I was hooked. 

Somewhere between the scandalous December journeys and the 

secret June rondevus, I'd lost myself.

I became someone new, someone I didn't recognize.

She was brave, seductive, deceitful, and most of all..

She was yours.

I didn't know who I was anymore but I liked who I was becoming.

This new girl, the one you created who had a taste for sharp vodka and

sweet honey chasers.

Long kisses and deep plum bruises placed all over 

my skin, put there by your ravenous lips and I craved every bit of it.

It was dangerous, falling for you. I kept those three words hidden away

behind the drugs and cancer sticks that make me feel whole.

Falling asleep on my sofa, laying on my bedroom floor, singing drunk

while we waltz around my kitchen table.

You uttered the words I tried so hard not to hear and suddenly 

I didn't know what to say. Instead, I locked my lips to yours and inhaled the feeling 

the way I inhale nicotine.

You were so much more than a drug found in a tobacco leaf, you were psychedelics. Acid tabs and magic mushrooms combined and I was an addict going through withdrawal.

We bled together, in and out. Blurring the lines of right and wrong and I didn't care.

My body was yours and yours alone. You consumed me and when things got rough we

didn't talk.

No, we screamed and we clawed and we bled. Then we cried and kissed and fucked until it all fell away.

 Fairytale endings don't exist for people like us or for girls like me.

You left and I became tired of unfolding memories, creasing and recreasing the same lines of the same story.