They will never be you, as much as I assure, promise, plead that they are. I will tell myself the same lies, through shaking lips and strangled words for an eternity. They hold my hand with the same gentle ease, grin with sparkling eyes, just like you. But I can’t stop feeling you in my bones, can’t stop my ears ringing with your voice, and just like that, they are nothing. They quickly become just another stranger I used. Another person I falsely had hoped would repair the gaping bullet wounds you left. That doesn’t stop me from trying though. I keep searching, looking for solace in a stranger, I keep hoping it’ll change. I let them tell me I’m beautiful through half lidded eyes. I let their chuckles travel through me like freight trains. For moments in time, I’m convinced it’s you. But when fumbling, desperate touches, leave their lips kissing the same spots where the ghost of you still lives, the facade fades. It crumbles and shatters, as quickly as it appeared. All their touches, their kisses suddenly feel like blades dragging against my skin, so foreign, too foreign and the want in my eyes drains so fast that i’m running, running out the door. No one can make up for all you gave me. The same things you took from me with haste, the same things that still haunt my sleep. I  remember the way I stared at you, the realisation so clear in my eyes. It hit me all at once. I let you light me up like I was a canister of gasoline, I let you walk away while I tended to my burns. Now, years later, I still have the wilting scars and they don’t stop my heart from begging for you. Here I am, down on my knees, hands clasped tightly. I’m praying to a god I don’t believe in, just to feel that flame against my skin one more time. You could beat me half to death and I’d still tell you through bruised lips, that I adore you. That’s my problem, I paint your crimes as accomplishments. I imagine you as an angel that you never once were. All because I’m so enraptured with you. I will hide the blood and gore of all your downfalls behind the love in my naive eyes. I’ll continue to wash your hands clean till the sink is stained scarlet red. The gun in your hand, it don’t mean a thing. I still want you, only you.