[A/N: I highly recommend you play the music while reading this. It just sets the mood, you know?]
I blasted my record player to old grunge plays and Arctic Monkeys to sound track along to our self destruction. You layed on the bed with a whisky in one hand and a lighter in the other. The blankets barely convering your half naked self.
Despite the heat of the flaming lighter, the alcohol burned more. You let the sunset glare into your half dilated puples. Assorted colours of purple and reds. I stared at you for the longest time. And you, out the window. "We're fucked up. But we're fucked up together."
We reaked of cigarette smoke and lust. You smiled every once and a while, at the thought of taking another sip. I drifted along to the soothing sound of Alex Turner's sexy voice. Getting lost into the occasional thought of our current state. You just smirked. We're fucked, babe.
~~~
I literally dont even know. But i really hope you guys liked this? Its somewhat a spin off from a different piece of mine but thats okay cx
I hope you guys are well.
I love you c:
Stay rad.
YOU ARE READING
Metanoia
Poetry"YOU LEFT BRUISES I CANNOT ERASE WITH FOUNDATION THIS TIME" These are just really shitty old poems tbh But i hope you guys are well c: © [Ranked #467 || poetry] [[Completed]]
