“You’re beautiful”,
He told me,
And I buried my face into his neck,
Smiling, content.
“You’re beautiful”,
He stated, as I sighed,
And dropped back the jeans,
That didn’t fit me anymore.
“You’re beautiful”,
He panted, his lips on mine,
And his hands,
All over me.
.
“You’re beautiful”,
He crooned, kneeling beside me,
The tears stinging the fresh gashes,
He’d made on my skin.
“You were beautiful”,
He waves his hand in the air,
And I stare at it,
Longing for it to caress me.
He was beautiful,
With his lopsided smiles,
And blood dried under his nails,
And his promises of keeping me around,
And loving me,
The way he loved beauty.
About the Author: Shreya Gupta is an 18-year old for whom writing is everything. You would often spot her with her nose in a book on a rainy afternoon with a cup of coffee, keeping her awake beyond her hours. She is from Jammu. She is a 1st year BA Media and Communication student at Manipal Institute of Communication. All Shreya believes in is ‘Rien n`est eternel’ which is French for “Nothing lasts forever.” She is on Instagram at @shreyaaaa_._
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