I know what makes him cry and I know what makes him cum. So I win.
You are going to leave me.
You are going to hurt me.
You are going to break your promises.
That is okay. But,
let’s not pretend like this is something
like you are someone different.
Please don’t feed me lines
if they’re hanging off the end of a fishing rod.
The hook scratches my throat when
you pull it back out,
causing more damage to my insides
than the secondhand smoke
from your cigarettes.
I will not hate you.
I will wish you well.
I will love you always and forever.
And so we go our separate ways,
the boy and girl that could’ve been,
but something always came up.
why is it always the woman who has to see past the beast in the man? why does she always have to clean his wounds, even after he has damaged her beyond repair? why is it always the man who is worthy of forgiveness for being a monster?
I want to see the beast in the beauty.
the half smile, half snarl. the unapologetic anger. I would like to see the man forgive the monster. to see her, blood and all, and love her anyway.
taylor swift is like that aunt that tries to be “hip” with the young’ns and “with the times” and then asks you what does bae stand for and after you tell her she starts calling everything bae even the lamp next to the couch
HEY YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE LAMP NEXT TO MY COUCH AND I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT IT IS, IN FACT, VERY MUCH BAE.