We laid below your skylight window and watched the snow fall in the warmth of eachother. You kissed my scars, and I twirled your dark hair in my fingers. I remember telling you I hated my hands, all the pain they had brought me, but you helped me see them differently. You taught me many things in the duration of our love, things I never wanted to know, like how a blade can be used for pleasure instead of pain— a seductive consequence that you somehow romantized. Perhaps you saved me, because I can't imagine drawing up blood on myself anymore with hatred in my heart. Now I only feel the sting of sexual pleasures. Funny how you made a bad habit of mine cease because it makes me feel too much, but everything else makes me feel nothing.
𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐃𝐈 𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐎
[LIKE AND COMMENT 4x FOR A THOUGHT OUT TBH AND RATE]
23. LEO. BORN IN ITALY, LIVES IN NYC. SECRETIVE. INDEPENDENT. LOYAL TO HER FRIENDS. SINGLE AND UNINTERESTED IN ROMANCE. SEX, DRUGS, MONEY. KINK QUEEN. CRAVES INTELLIGENT CONVERSATION. A TRAGEDY READER, A CYNICAL WRITER. BRUTALLY HONEST, ALWAYS SARCASTIC. BISEXUAL. GREAT MUSIC TASTE. SATAN INCARNATE. TEMPTRESS. BEAUTIFUL DISASTER.