Fuck Them but Never Forget
Knives on flesh and back again. I need sweet memories of the nights I've erased and careful caresses to replace the love that seeps from betwixt your thighs. I can't trace the lineage of our time together because sadly and solely I've rotted the cells that held those memories. My remembrance of you, just like that of some long dead relative, is wiped away and wiped clean. The sins that brought us together will simply tear us apart as they turn themselves into headlines in some sort of mockery of a scandal. Our cool lips lock and embrace, wrapping themselves in majesty and it's not about settling (it never has been). My debt to you has been paid off in full as the gashes on my thighs can attest to and every time I bed down with another I'll be thinking of you; they'll be reminded of you. Because after all, my love, every single one of them is about you.