There was life before him.
A hollow,
aching,
agonising existence.

Fuelled only by the few she told herself she loved,
and the never-ending need to survive.

But there was no life after.

Now that she'd tasted heaven,
she couldn't help but fall for hell.

She had come to long for the anarchy,
all the destruction and grit that came with loving him.

And now,
after all she'd been through,
being torn apart,
was the only thing that made her feel whole.