The smooth skin, the haunted eyes. 
The long fingers and the flawless smile. 
The dimple in one side of your cheek. 
The way your fingers become your hands 
Become your arms become your chest.
The hollow at the base of your neck.
The poison in your words, the drug in your scent.
The taste of your lips, almost a year ago.
Your laugh, your pride, the fact that you know.

It’s a strange feeling, this.
Needing you to leave me alone but wanting to die every second I’m not talking to you.
Wanting to breathe in your scent but hating the taste of all the other girls on your mouth.
Feeling like I’ve been through everything with you but facing reality; we’ve hardly ever been together.
It’s a strange feeling, this.

Sometimes your scent finds its way to me.