Song.
“My boyfriend used my palm, as an ashtray,
And that was on his good days’
They hardly knew one another. Not until that last year of school.
So it was silly that they bonded so quickly.
He was the only one that tried to help her. The only one that mentioned the bruises. The only one who did something about them.
She wasn’t the type to just bring someone home.
But she’d known the minute he’d vowed no one would touch her again, That he was the one she wanted to be with.
Forever.
The knowledge she lacked however, were his mutual feelings on the matter.
Watching from afar was getting boring.
“He got inside my bed,
He’s sleeping in my head,
He’s got hold of my hand...”
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