"No one will ever love you like an artist." (*That could have been us by K.P.K)
As we walk down the subway line, the graffiti passes by you.
"I'm guessing a lot of men hurt knowing no one will love them like you."
"I never been in love." Her eyes looking up to the words as her fingertips rub across the lettering. "So the only thing they can remember me by is my pretty words... I say a lot of pretty words. Pretty thoughts."
"Do you not mean what you say with all those pretty words?'
"I do. But I want someone who will accept my non- pretty words. The Ex- Lover I hit. How intoxicated I would get to just forget. The lines, the pretty lines. Those where my favorite."
"Lines?"
A sly smile pulls at the end of her lip.
"Cocaine."
*The beginning sentence belongs to the author K.P.K.