seven part two

We don’t talk about it.

We do not talk about how you have been the only person to be amazing to me on several occasions. We do not talk about how even the sight of your hands makes me nervous. How you think I’m amazing. How you and I can not stay out of trouble. It’s been a long time.

I was able for a bit, to ignore how I felt about you. I’ve tried to give you away so many times. I tried not to think about how your laugh, your voice, your idiotic smile is so much like the last one. Some boy in some band sent here to fuck up my life. What the fuck is it with you people? Why can’t I grow the fuck up?

That couch at that club. It’s listened to us talk too much. It’s seen too much. I tell you too much. You have that kind of face. I just want to give you everything sometimes and I think you know this. You’re just so easy to make happy. We fit together, and then we don’t.

Everytime I see you, I can not think about anything else for days. If aliens scanned my brain, they’d be shocked at what I was thinking. Horrified. They’d wonder what the fuck was wrong with me, and they’d be right to do so. You’re straight from hell. Evil. Straight up. Which is why I like you so much. Which is why you’re dangerous. Which is why we can not behave.

You were the first person I met here. I remember it, you and me in this dive bar. You smiled that lazy stupid smile of yours. Introduced yourself and told me you liked my jacket. Said I always made you laugh. Said I was beautiful.You always say that. You always just reach out for me like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Because it is and it isn’t and you are straight up from hell and most likely my punishment for everything I’ve ever done wrong. Your silly laugh. Your killer eyelashes. Your dumb smile. The way you smell. You’re just another one, like all the other ones and you’ll probably ruin my life. It happens. All. The. Time.