starrydynamo

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be able to re-learn the difference between the pain of my own heart breaking and the joy of ripping out someone elses spine; I still cant tell which feels better, or is more familiar to me. I loved you dear boy, oh I loved you very much and I would have given the world for you if it meant that I could spend four more minutes with your hand in mine. I still listen to those songs we used to drive around and sing together, the ones you now claim as only yours, the words you stole from my mouth. My spot in the front seat --the one up close to you that I claimed so I could kiss your neck and whisper sweet nothings in your ear--you traded it in for some cheap dime store whore that couldnt care less about time.