Addicted

We’re standing in the rain,
Grass submersing our brains,
Waiting for the carriage,
Along to fucking marriage

Marriage to a life,
Of which I’m misfortunes wife,
And you’re the happy husband,
In miserable fucking England.

I hate your Scottish face,
You’re a bloody disgrace,
The way you handled me,
Was like our fucking child- our money.

I try to hold your hand,
Like we used to when we were whammed,
But the grass is in your clutch,
All you care for is the fucking promised land from the Dutch.

We’ll never be the same they say,
We’re heading our separate ways,
They’re right y’know?
I’d fucking leave you if you hadn’t of said ‘no’

So now I’m standing here,
With your breath in my ear,
The grass in our hearts
And our fucking dreams beginning to start.

My finding

He was handsome, ruggishly handsome with an air of invincibility about him. He was laid back and cool, nothing appeared to bother him. This made him even more… Desirable. His Scottish accent livened my nerves and his electric blue eyes set me alight.

The night continued, the light headedness made everything that bit more exciting. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as we broke into the cinema building site. The sky had begun to lighten; he and I sat on the steps. He laughed.  His laughter was like magic, and although I’d only know him a short while, I knew his laughter would be something I would continue desire to hear.

He looked at me for a moment. I saw the world in his blue eyes and for a moment I felt something.

Words whispered from his mouth, a smile grew across my face and I tried to hold his gaze but couldn’t. A nervous laugh escaped from me. I felt the tension between us, it was as strong as the metal framework that structured the building. It was what I found out to be love.