The Beautiful Disaster, part 2

Waking up to the excited screams of the neigbours’ kids, and the smell of sweat and alcohol; you shift your gaze to the creature next to you. You smile, for no real reason. You know it won’t last.

With the emotional capacity of a rock, you drag yourself out of bed and out of sight. You light, you drag, you exhale. You can feel his presence, even when he’s not in the room. He’s there, in the back of your mind, staring at you, smiling, touching your face ever so softly.

You eventually face him; he grabs your hand and pulls you close, whispering “you don’t need to go anywhere”. You’re dazed, but very aware of what comes next. You laugh with him; he puts the most curious thoughts into your head.

Then it happens; the same thing that happens every time. You look at him differently, a mere twelve hours later, you drag, you exhale. You know how he gets hold of your soul, and softly lets it go as if to let you know that you are palpable. He won’t break you because you are already beautifully broken. He’s not the glue that will fix you. He’s what makes you forget for a moment, and it’s okay.


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