Our beginning is totally cliche and overused
High school acquaintances, both moved to start a career  
A friend request you sent, by my bubbly nature I accepted  

Conversing you persuaded me into tossing out my digits
Completely engulfed, a strong friendship we made
Life struggles, we conquered in the first week of dating

Fast pace, we were cruising and agreed, "hey let's get married"
Two weeks it took to say I do
Life smacks us hard, we never miss our groove

Babies, babies, changing your direction
Glance into your heart, how profound it is to be parenting
You were not ready to be a daddy
Your ego grew and I always forgave you
Young, drunk and dumb was your history

Separated and unplanned, awaken you became
You still wanted control and I said here take chunks of my energy
Now frazzled and drained, I am on the brink of leaving
Blurred, I only see spotty portraits of that white cake
The sweet taste smudged against my face and the way you licked your lips

Time loves to cause a stampede with memories
Brush the hair from my eyes, I feel the hail falling as I cry
Is this what "and they lived happily ever after" means

The devil sat upon his toasted grieving red throne
Gulping his tongue, the devil never stressed  
She seduced his powerful taste
He knew she was a lost soul, out of control  
She was a walking mess, who was taking her toll
He had no business taking a hit to his statured entitlement  
He promised to distinguish her from the rest, implicating a battle every dawning blue sky
His threats do not scare her passion to fight
She's a rampage with braided hair and an innocent glare
Zip up your sweater vest, here comes Hells pest

"I ****** less", she said grabbing her lacey dress.
Her contrary dignity intact as she takes a sip of whiskey.
Walking out the door becoming the prominent mother everyone adores.
*** addict, she ignores.
No one sees the double life she hides so well.
Between the sheets of Monogamy and lustry gratification.
Her heart beats wildly out of control making her want to feed.
Possibly disfunctional programming involved.
She feels no need to anguish in the games she plays.
Love is where her happiness is.
*** is where her gut resides.

The weekend drips slowly
Regrouping, fixing her flowing blouse
Removing moments of stupidity
Told, goals will not wait upon the playing
The world doubts her abilities
She keeps a flower crown
A sip in her soul and a push beyond control
A gut on the verge of dying
She smiles introducing her cries to the world
If God could see, how proud would he be
Taking shots as they sing
Oh to have a presence built on a kingdom of storm clouds
A goddess with out an understanding

Lonely is the only emotion I feel, sitting on the counter
Plopped down, flicking guilt
Remanence on paper, I use to heal
I chose to be ill
I'm the unattached ****** desire
Conversation not required
Tormented love, consumed and killed
Around this pole, twisted and unthrilled
Patiently waiting on something
My ******* body feels nothing
Still insanity quenches the thrusting
When will we finally become ***** and musty
I can no longer conceal our secret, smiling
Annoyed with me, I'm done hiding
Tonight I'm not grieving
Deceived, here is your rope of control
I need to find the cover for my gaping hole

She was electric in hot pink heels
That's why he ******* hated her
Her tight black pencil skirt helped her to prevail  
His ego a morsel in comparison to her priorities
Once a love now devoured
A misery deserved
He was a mistake in the making
Confidence she held to a high society
He was a risk never worth taking
Love is a disgust, as he held her hand in front of a judge
He took a life time opportunity for granted
Her strong will had excelled planning
His ugly button up shirt and shiney shoes is all he has left
Dismantled, his pride is nonexistent  
She a constant certanty
Walking with narccism pink arched bow ties, she has no reason to cry

A relationship in moments of breaking
Their joking words become truth
"At least the *** is always good"
Only small fibers hold to their fighting
Her hand a constant turning, now one with the door handle
Laying naked in the bed, no other words are heard
A constant misunderstanding
"At least the *** is always good"
He redesign her with out her knowing
Slowly tearing her voice away
She wants to believe in his changing
The door handle reminds her, he is not releasing
"At least the *** is always good"
He loves her dearly yet he finds her embarrassing  
His words are soothing, taking her anxiety away
He has the cue cards convincing her naive thinking
The joke is now engraved humbling
"At least the *** always good"