eighteen ➳ punk a.i.

He was a drug; addicting and dangerous. His eyes looked deep into your soul, searching for anything he could retrieve that you mouth couldn't speak. He was dark and scared of everything; even love. He never let anyone in, just like myself. He never thought anyone could love or treat him right. He had me wrapped around his fingers, taunting me with every decision about us he made. But that was okay. Because technically, we were loving each other to survive.