I'm so scared of the day when the future that I'm so terrified of
Is no longer the future

She sits there alone

at all the local bars

Skin so young

but there's stories in her scars

stitches on the sleeve

where her heart was once worn

so calm in her face

but her minds a raging storm.

Yeah, shes happy alone

but she misses his touch

and a closeness thats shes now so

terrified of.

She smiles and she laughs

and she tells not a soul

of the nightmares and cold sweats

and of the way that her heart broke.

She silently sits

and shot after shot

lets go for the night

what while sober she cannot.

She sings sweet love songs

in tragic tones of Macbeth.

Cursing every man

in the room

underneath her breath.

Boys are weird!
Us girls will never understand them.
They scuff their knees up and walk out the house with tousled hair,
Can they ever think before they do?
They swing, climb, run, and jump on everything!
Just stay still.
Boys will be boys,
With dirt on their faces and cuts on their fingers.
They stick gum in girl's hair,
Carry slimy frogs in their pockets.
Their appetite is atrocious,
Are they gentlemen deep down?
Boy's language is all washed up,
They'll call you hot instead of beautiful.
They're full of burps and hung up on videogames,
Wrestling in the house every second.
Do they have a nice side?
Dads will keep a good eye on them,
Making sure they're good for their daughters.
Boys never stay like this,
They grow up to eventually become a *man.

My twenty-two hour love took me by the hand,
Being the first one to ever even acknowledge the fact that I was more than a human, but a mind as well.
We strolled by all the people who sent their hatred towards us,
Smirking at their ill-founded comments that seemed to know "everything" about us.
The butterflies were not only in my stomach,
But in my feet,
My heart,
All the way up to the tip of my scalp.
My twenty-two hour love took me by the waist.
He pulled me in closer to him as we were sitting,
As if I would suddenly run away from him if his grip became any looser.
We exchanged stories about our lives at the dead of night,
And somehow it felt normal.
His godly hands rejuvenated my skin and set my heart on fire,
But I didn't mind,
For my heart was previously ice-cold,
Even on those warm spring nights.
At the twenty-third hour of knowing my twenty-two hour love,
I peeled off his skin and revealed his vile insides,
And suddenly the butterflies that were scattered around my body became a swarm of bees,
Stinging at my insides and yearning for sweet honey.
The word "stop" suddenly had no meaning whatsoever,
And my screams became hushed whispers in his ears.
Once again, my twenty-two hour love grabbed me by the hand,
But this time he dragged me into a ring of fire,
That had previously served as my heart,
And his godly hands didn't seem so godly anymore,
For when I looked up,
I was holding hands with the Devil.