𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟔 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐒

angels are no better than men.

the words swing around your head like a mantra, a constant reminder of the way he left you. actually left. after all his sweet words, promises, and kisses that felt like forever. thrown away like it was nothing, like it didn’t mean the world to you.

he said it like he always spoke. like his words didn’t rip your heart out, stamp on it, and then sentence it to an eternal lifetime in hell. like it didn’t kill you to know that even angel couldn’t love you enough to stay.

you’re in your bed, alone again, like you were before you met the wretched angel, but it’s worse, because now you’re plagued by memories of what you did have, and let slip through your fingers like sand. you swallow, the sound echoing in the empty silence, as you try to keep the rapidly accumulating tears from falling down your reddened cheeks.

he occupied your mind like a disease. he probably didn’t even think of you any more. it had only been three days, but he was probably already with meg, or some other infuriatingly attractive demon that kissed him better than you did.

maybe it was naive of you to expect it to work, for him to really be with you forever. forever’s not so long to a mortal like you. no angel wants a wrinkly old girlfriend with hearing aids, with their everlastingly perfect vessels. maybe it was naive, but it didn’t stop you from hoping, from praying. but, not for the first time in your life, praying wasn’t enough.