You’re More Than Just 2.A.M Passion

I never thought I would be that girl. The one who uses cheap wine and a heart on fire as an excuse.

I never thought I could look into your brown eyes and not see him.

I never thought you’d be more than just my favorite Friday night passion.

Your bed was an oasis that took the memories of him whispering into my hair and holding me till our bodies were one, all away.

You were never meant to last.

You were never meant to be more than a temporary numbness.

I never thought you could replace him.

But you did,

and you did it with such a wild fury, sweeping me up in the white sheets and silent promises between us.

Now here I am,

tucked in your arms, legs entangled between yours, and stealing the tiniest of smiles between each moment our lips dance on eachother’s.

The fire that would burn me to my core, lights a passion.

The deep brown in your eyes covers me like a blanket, promising a comfort I never found in his.

Your fingers tracing my hip bones don’t leave a burning touch, but plant flowers in their wake.

Friday nights I could see your smile, crinkling at your eyes.

But I never knew you had dimples that lit up your entire face, until our first Sunday breakfast.

I never knew what his smile looked like in the daylight.

You kept my bones from caving in on all the doubts I planted in myself,

you held me till I melted into the truth of what I never knew.

It’s not my fault he couldn’t love me.

It’s not my fault the flowers in my bones could never bloom in his arms.

It’s not my fault he hated the way I could talk about the things that made me want to live, to dream, to cry, all night long.

It’s not my fault he didn't know I hated how cold it was at night, especially in his bed,

It’s not my fault he wasn’t you.