You Kissed Me, And I Had To Smoke 7 Cigarettes Just To Cover The Taste Of Your Lips Against Mine.
They write about falling in love, they write about heartbreak, but they never write about falling out of love.
They don't write how a person who once was your home, your safeplace, turns into something distant, something you don’t know anymore. And God, it hurts.
It hurts so much that even when I have the smoke of 21 cigarettes inside of my lungs I still need more, or when I take 19 pills I always end up taking 8 more. It's never enough.
The drugs haven't worked out and neither did we, but god I swear I did love you. I loved you to the moon and back, I loved you more than I had ever loved myself, so do not ask me why is all that in past now.
I don't know. I don't know what happened when your eyes weren't full of galaxies anymore and I don't know what happened when I fell asleep to the thought of him instead of you or when I said 'I love you' knowing those words weren't true anymore.
You were my future, and I was yours, so please, please forgive me because I surely never will forgive myself for ruining something so beautiful, for ruining the only thing in my life that seemed to have something good in it.
— you kissed me, and I had to smoke 7 cigarettes just to cover the taste of your lips against mine.