You ruined me

When I first met you 

I came home 

smelling like thunderstorms 

and cigarette smoke 

and teenage love, 

and my mother 

grabbed me and said, 

"sweetheart, 

don't you fucking 

dare fall in love". 

And I kissed her cheek 

and tried to put back together 

the necklace you had 

bought me that night, 

it was broken 

but I wrapped the chain 

around my fingers, 

they still smelled like you 

when I put them close. 

When I first kissed you 

I came home 

smelling like raspberry vodka 

and the daisy flowers 

you had put behind my ear 

and smudged lipstick, 

and my mother noticed 

that I was wearing your t-shirt, 

and that you made me 

give it back 2 days later 

and she brushed my hair 

out of my face and said, 

"darling, 

don't you fucking 

dare fall in love." 

And I just smiled 

and stuck my hand 

in my jacket pocket 

and touched the note 

you had hidden there 

when you kissed me, 

when you said that you were 

cold like an iceberg 

and I was the sun 

and I could melt you 

with my fingertips. 

When I first cried for you 

I came home 

smelling like fire 

and teardrops 

and breakup songs 

and cheap vodka 

that made me throw up 

and bruises 

and rose thorns 

and smudged makeup 

dripping down my face 

and my mother just looked at me 

without saying a word. 

And two months later 

I met a boy who wasn't so cold 

and let me keep his shirts to sleep in 

when I missed him 

and never let anything break, 

especially my heart. 

And I came home every night 

smelling like everything safe 

and good 

and happy, 

telling myself that 
I better not dare fall in love. 

I better not dare fall in love. 

I better not fucking dare fall in love. 

— m.f. // You ruined me