by: october lies
"i'm a fight with myself 'till i'm bleeding,
just a taste of your skin starts the healing."
(it's not your fault, awolnation)
i shrugged the sweater over my shoulders and crawled back into the littered bed. hayden was curled up against the wall, covered in nothing but sweat, goosebumps, and last night's vices. strands of her dark hair were stuck to her neck and shoulders, like snakes against her pale skin. beer cans laid at our feet, empty bottles and ashtrays between our pillows. the night before was a blur of whiskey and games and no clue how we ended up lying beneath the tattooed women tacked to my ceiling.
i lit a reburn and leaned against the headboard as i looked around the room. it was an absolute mess and glass sparkled under the sunlight in a far corner. my bones ached to my toes and scabs were starting form on my knees. my brain itched to clean the piles and straighten the frames but my chest protested the deep inhales of a cigarette and i was scared to remember the fight that tore through the room. i stubbed out the cigarette and barely looked twice at the spoon on the nightstand, waiting for a torch and my empty lungs.
i rolled over and pressed myself into her skin, sticky with sweat and the stench of liquor, content with letting the morning slip away so long as it meant i still had her.
back? maybe? idk.
i want a girlfriend.