i wonder how we ended up so broken. you; soft hair, strong arms, bruised heart, bruised skin, angel boy. can't tell the difference between wrong and right, tells me to leave when he wants me to stay and doesn't listen when i tell him no. small town with even smaller hearts, you can't figure out when to put the bottle down. you buy cigarettes by the carton and each time you tell me it'll be the last. small white pills and late nights, powder around the rim of your nose, falling down to rest on your upper lip. i dont care that when i kiss you all i taste is cigarettes and the shame of your bad decisions. or when i bury my head in your chest i can't smell your cologne, just stale cigarettes and the lingering scent of alcohol and her perfume. angel boy.
me; blonde haired blue eyed angel girl. soft pale hair, even paler skin. losing feathers each time our lips touch, the bile rises in my throat and soon i won't be able to fly. innocent before i met you but now i don't know the meaning of the word. self destructive in a whole new sense, no longer bright red that oozes from my split skin, but a steady stream of unholy that you bring. white lines, white pills, white skin when i take too much. blue lips, slow heartbeat. your hand in mine as my vision fades and my head spins. angel girl.
us; bruised hearts, bruised skin, bruised dignity. we crawl back to each other like we forgot the descent into hell from the last time. everytime a bell rings an angel gains their wings, but everytime my phone rings and you name lights up on the screen i can feel my chance at redemption slipping further and further away.
you; new year, new girl, "new" you. no more pin pricks in the crook of your arm, no more late nights and drinking until your head spins. church every sunday, you don't skip a day of class. but looks can be deceiving, i can see this false halo of yours slipping. you call me at one in the morning and you tell me god is sleeping. sitting the passenger seat of your old pickup, hand on my thigh, bottle passed between us and i can taste the alcohol on your breath when we kiss. it's not unholy when the lights are out and it's always a little more fun when it's a little bit wrong.
me; shaky hands, quivering voice, too much anxiety not enough courage. short skirts, triumphant smirk. his hand on my thigh, your eyes glaring from across the room. easy laughter and quick smiles, and angrily tapping your foot. jealousy looks good on you. fingers fumbling in the dark, slipping down the rabbit hole again.
you; dark hair, dark thoughts, eyes rolled back into your head like you're searching for the will to continue loving me. clenched jaw, steady stare. imagining colours littering my body, but refraining but only for the sake of a small smile and bright eyes that stare up at you, angel boy. a soft laugh, a promise that this won't happen again. you're happy, you found someone. but we both know you'll come back again, unable to resist grabbing me by the jaw and seeing the fear in my eyes as you tell me what you'll do to me. you won't remember who she is when you're with me. the shame after is worth it, to see the expanse of my pale skin stretched out across your bedding.
me; soft hair, soft voice, soft touch. can't resist the way our skin clashes when we're together. your body looks nice draped across mine, tan body, warm skin, warm heart. always ignore the pain i feel when you help me back into my clothes and call her on the phone, to ease your mind. erase everything. i help you strip the bed and wash your sheets so they’re clean when she comes over the next day. i play our song softly, smile when i hear you whispering along. forehead kisses and the smell of your skin. your soft bed and your hand in my hair, light touches up and down my arms. we both know that this is the best type of sin, your hand in mine, and no fear of repercussion from false gods and deities.
you; unable to remember the last time you were this happy with her in your arms but unwilling to admit you made a mistake. fake smiles and meaningless sex. your father doesn't like her and your grandparents don't feel the need to protect her. your mother pretends she doesn't notice your dark circles and disheveled hair, and i pretend i don't notice the lipstick smudges on your collar. doesn't she know how you detest it? i don't know her name you never tell me, but it doesn't matter when you're with me. still can't tell the difference between right and wrong, it's okay if you're fucking me when youre fucked up. the drugs made you do it, didn't you know, angel boy? the wreckage of your soul gets worse every second you spend with me. but gods forsaken you, its only a matter of time before you end up in hell.
me; hair that hadsnt seen a brush in weeks, shorter skirts, longer nights, white lines, acid drop god and oxytocin devil. i only cry when the stars die, i wonder what that says about me as a person. light bruises littering my neck, sore wrists, sore heart. sobriety sounds like a myth, belonging with stories of persephone and mount Olympus. i haven't seen a sober day in months, stumbling into his truck, waking up drunk, and pills are my best friend. the curious feeling that everything is becoming less real, hazy thoughts and a mind that plays tricks on me, batting eyelashes at men in bars to get my way, angel girl.
us; stolen pills, stolen alcohol, stolen hearts. boys who look at me with lust in their eyes and bad  intentions. girls who dream about you at night, holding them close in their sleep. self destruction in the most glorious way. trading in our wings for cheap thrills and pretty things. can't remember the past three years of our lives, but understanding we opened a door we couldn't close. the fall from heaven was hard, the descent into hell was worth it. tattered dreams and broken hearts, sad eyes, tired eyes, clouded vision, blown pupils. you and i.
you; soft hair, strong arms, bruised heart, bruised skin, angel boy. flicking ash onto the carpet, setting your heart aflame. fire department comes too late. too many sleepless nights and smoke filling your lungs. left to the ruins of your life.
me; blonde haired blue eyed angel girl. pale hair, paler skin. i want to look pretty when you find me dead in the bathtub. too many stolen pills, not enough will to live.