the same ones you kept throwing.
i should have known better.
should have known that hoping for pink skies would only lead to you contaminating my favorite city.
edric
i hated you so damn much, even then, because i loved you.
id choose hands that broke me more often than theyd touch me.
something so unlike you, something so much like the beginning.
i thought that maybe little moments like this were worth all the bad things.
that maybe beauty didnt come without pain.
v. back home youd hurt me, only to keep me sedated, only to hurt me again.
all i know is that i loved like religion, loved you with blind faith and without reasons to.
all i know is that you were incapable of feeling anything.
im still not sure whats worse, being the executioner or the martyr.
when all is said and done, we looked nothing like love.
nothing like the english novels i grew up on.
nothing like i would ever want for anybody.
nothing like the stories dreams are made of.
beauty is so fleeting, beauty can kill, and im still carrying around the damage from being struck.
