Black — T.L. Smith

I am loyal, but I will betray you. I am strong, but I have scars. I am an angel, but the devil. I met her when I was sixteen, she was a breath of fresh air. She swooped in, making me smile. But then she left, taking my next breath with her. Her smile could light up a room, making my black heart pitter patter. I found her again ten years later, with a syringe in her arm. Blood coming from her legs. She was broken and I was glad she was broken. She wouldn't think less of me and my damaged ways.