We fall in love with what is bad for us. He tasted like expensive whiskey, and I had a craving for his liquor lips. He told me he didn’t know what love was, but I still spilled my soul on his floor and watched as he stepped over it instead of picking it up. He told me he didn’t want a relationship, but I forgot to stop myself from calling him my boyfriend when people asked about him.
Loving him was dangerous, but I’ve always had a high tolerance for pain. When his fingertips started burning my skin, I taught myself how to be numb. I was always doing things for him, I never even noticed I was wasting away.it’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt | S.B. (via fallinlovewithapoet)