cocaine

He was the kind of man everyone said it wasn't worth falling in love for. 

Where ever he walked in to, people didn't like him. 

He smelled like dust, cocaine, old leather, bikes and old fashioned tattoos.

 He listened to rock and roll and had his fingers twisted from all the fights he had been part of. 

He was bad for everyone except for me. 

I was bad for him and even so, I found comfort in his twisted hands and bloody nose. 

This is what love tastes like, I thought while I kissed him. 

Of drugs, of skies full of stars and promises made of nothing.