It’s either easy picking, or too arrogant, sitting alone in the corner, just hoping that you’d grab me by the shoulder and pull me in like she used to.
Not one of you will be quite like her.
You’re all your own beasts, in my book, but I miss her.
In so many ways.
The way she hooked me by the eyes with a look of desire, a look of need.
It was fucking heartbreaking.
It was hard to overlook the pure love in those damn eyes.
I could see them in the day-break, when the sun rested and her pupils grew.
I could see them in the dawn, when the skies rose and her irises sparkled bright.
I could see she loved me, and I could see when she stopped.
It was fucking heartbreaking, I tell you.