Beautiful Disaster

I have to write this off as a one time thing. We had our fun, and now you’re moving on. All that you had hoped and waited for had come and gone. I gave you something I had never given anyone, and you took it with little, if any, question.
You don’t care how much this has affected me, but why would you? You keep yourself numb with drugs, as I lay here hoping you gave a damn.

About me.

About life.

About anything.

I just don’t want to accept it. I didn’t want it to be over so quick, but I’ll start to move on. Just not as quickly as you take another line.

That night.

Of neutral intoxication.

It will stay with me, but it has probably already slid off your back. Just another card in your deck.  If that.

I should blame myself.

For always seeking the bad ones out.

For seeing something beautiful in the most fucked up people. For always abandoning the truth that is screaming in my ear every second of the night. I can only hope that I will stop fleeing to you in search of meaning, but I’m not counting on it. I’m just trying to fill my own need for closeness. I guess I’m using you for longer than you used me.

You were my first beautiful disaster.

I hope you are my last.

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