For her, it’s amazing just how much he hates himself the way she hates herself, but all the more his imperfections are so beautiful that it makes her fall deeper in love. His imperfections were something compared to hers. So to say that his downsides are the best things, that his scars are his best features, that the darkness is something not terrible, but beautiful. He’s the angel she’s been dreaming of her entire life. He calls himself a monster, but no, for her, he is the most wonderful angel that could ever exist.
And he doesn’t even know.
Because he doesn’t care.
The thing with monsters is, they tend to destroy the things that love them even before knowing just how much. They leave them in the ashes of their feelings and turn to hate themselves even more. Monsters wouldn’t know just how much.
This monster wouldn’t know just how much.
Just how much.
Had she not known in the beginning? Once a monster falls for a monster, only sad stories and poetry will come forth.
Graffitied 