a life where i could have laid in bed next to you wearing your best tux, grinning at me with a cigarette dangling precariously from your mouth.
hair charmingly disheveled, in a roguish sort of way.
the glint in my eye that says i can make it so much worse.
your smug smile that dares me to.
me, drunk on your arrogance, as always.
and everything seems hazy, almost dreamlike.

you, of course, on top of the world. overlooking it all. king of the universe.
i don't mind being below you, it's a nice view. one of your best angles. you belong there.
and i know that you'll pull me up from my knees when you tire of the reverence anyway.
(asifthatwilleverhappen)
i've begged. i've earned it.
the light from the window behind you produces a sort of halo effect.
it's fitting, to see you so heavenly. holy and ethereal. it just makes sense.
like how you only understand the sight of your coatrack when my jacket's hanging from it, next to yours.
or how touches only feel right when they're accompanied by the coolness of your old ring brushing against my cheek.

i can't stand the way you look at me,
when you lie and swear you love me more than anything. more than yourself.
the obsession with everyone who has wronged you that will one day consume you.
your need to destroy everything before you can built it back up again.
not all supernovas end in nebulas, you know.
some end in blackholes.

but you don't hear any of this.
because then i wake up.

abby