He was everything that nobody wanted.
He smelt like old spice, bad highs and wet skies.
His spine, concave from the emotional baggage he'd been carrying since 8.
He was an ugly soul. An ugly soul that belonged to an ugly face.
I loved him.
His beige smile and sleep deprived eyes were the biggest story-tellers.
His calloused hands bigger than what mine could fit.
His two toned lips, fat for what a boy could get.
His charcoal skin darker than the night at 12.
He was broken.
He found solace and a home in the warmth of a woman's flesh.
He used comedy to overshadow his deepest darkest secrets.
He had fake friends, who gave fake advice, cause they all lived a fake life.
He was a lost soul roaming around in between relms.
He was a gentle fuckboy.
I loved him.
