I knew a dangerous man.
You wouldn't know what he was.
But I could see the tight clench of broken fists.
The ****** tape carelessly wrapped around the
bleeding breaks in his hardened knuckles.
A murderers kiss is a rush.
It is a pool of water so hot it feels cold.
When was the last time you kissed someone
so passionately it caused your hair to stand on end?
It caused a chill down your spine- quick and ruthless.
I wasn't scared of dark eyes or dark mouths or dark hearts.
I wasn't scared of a bullet or a gun or an ******
that starts with a rope and a whip and
ends with bruises and my body pressing into broken drywall.
I smile at the danger in the threat.
Our intensity crumbled our surroundings.
We were the flash. The flame.
He was the thrill, I was the ******.
Have you ever wondered what hell was like?
People don't speak of the days they spend there.
They don't talk about the tortured memories that keep them awake.
A smoky afternoon and broken glass.
Cigarettes flung out the window with your decency.
Mangled innocence is okay as long as you
keep it contained enough to sweep out of the room after you're done.
Eyes like a black hole. Shaking desires.
And when he says beg, you close your eyes and feel the fire.
Have you ever loved a wild man?
Have you made him moan in the dead of night?
Have you ever been a pane of glass?
Have you ever had a brick thrown through you and been alright?
Have you ever known a bleeding devil and made his bed your home?
Have you licked his blood and tasted your doom?

I don't want to listen to old voicemails over and over, taking me back to the damage I did and the distance I drew, listening to you love me so much, until you couldn't. Reminding me of my sick satisfaction as I drove you away just to know I'd be fine without you. And you moved on, long forgot about me. It's a year later and your recorded voice cripples me with a crave for closure I'll never get. But, still I listen to that voicemail out of the same sick satisfaction I get from pushing limits before it becomes self-destruction.

We’re not on roads here
There aren’t paved paths
We’re ambling around this solid sphere
    in the middle of nothing
Deluded into a destiny
    because we’re afraid of death
There’s no black and white
Perceive your own right from wrong
How dare any one flawed ******
Dictate how the rest get along

Anticipation
Drugs. Hallucinations
Helter-Skelter
Sticky Situations
What's this life I'm living?
What should I do with it?
Breathe. Blow smoke
Time's going
My blood's flowing
But I'm bored, waiting
This **** isn't even the slightest bit
Entertaining
But it takes me away
Pushes the pain to another day
Numb.
Anticipating