He told me smoking was bad for me, I never thought he would turn out to be worse. He was the type of person that got stuck, not only in my head, but in my veins too. The type I wrote poetry about, but wouldn’t introduce to my parents. He lit a fire inside of me, and then left me to burn out. I didn’t need to kiss him to feel the sparks, every time his fingertips brushed across my skin, my heart would race like a Maserati. My skin erupted in goose bumps, and my stomach filled with butterflies. And every time his lips met mine, I felt like I was on ecstasy. He was the closest thing to love I ever felt, and now that he’s gone I don’t want to feel it again. When he kissed me for the last time, my heart felt this loneliness; I still haven’t recovered from it.
She was a bright girl. She knew what she wanted, and she knew exactly what she didn’t. She was easy to know, but difficult to work out. Mature for her age, with bright - misleading eyes, filled with innocence; contrasting from the crimson red that constantly coated her lips. Sending mixed signals without even opening her mouth. A burning soul and a freezing heart - contradicting herself from inside out. She’s a paradox. She’s careless, but she cares all too much. A love that once filled her heart, leaves her aching and longing. A passion that consumed her, leaves her cold and distant. A smile that was once permanently etched on her face is now vacant, left hard and bitter, non existent.
Maybe one day, I will find someone else to love, But I know it will never be a love like ours. It might fill me up with happiness - but it will never replace the love that we had. He might know me, But he won’t know me the way you did, the way you do. He won’t know to give me the grape flavoured candies out of the bag of Jolly ranchers - you know they were always my favourite. He won’t know the way I drink my coffee; strong with that French vanilla creamer you know I loved. He won’t know to squeeze my thigh when that one Ed Sheeran song plays, I always cry when that one song plays, but I didn’t when you were with me. He won’t know to make me a grilled cheese at barbecues - you know how much I hate grilled meat. He won’t know what I’m thinking without even asking me - only you could do that. He won’t be able to read me like an open book - that was your job. He won’t know to push me up against walls and steal a kiss from me - that’s always reserved for you. He won’t know what playlist to play when we drive - that will always remain ours. He won’t know me, I don’t think anyone will ever know me the way you did, the way you still do.
