I romanticized him until he was the perfect being. A soul so beautiful, but so immensely evil too.

You were like fine wine, but cheap wine gets you drunk faster.

He wasn’t a good person, but I painted him to be and since I painted it, I believed it.

We were riding fast, I got lost in the thought that this couldn’t end. Good things end. Bad things we reminisce.

Only very few people can remain unruffled by trouble.

running with sharp knives
never got me so far
but running with you
seemed lovely