Hurt is a beautiful thing.
It’s a collage of broken memories.
It’s visible, yet no one sees.
It’s a swirl of mixed emotions
And full of lost devotions.
It’s almost pain, but not quite there,
Yet still, it’s more than I can bear.

m.c.c.

Mad Hatter's getting narcissistic without his tea
That's how I feel when I can't burn things
but you can't spell "arsonist" without A-R-T

Maybe I'm crazy but honestly it's therapy

Bolt the door to the party and listen to them scream
Oceans of commotion won't extinguish my latest masterpiece
So kick back, fire up a cig
Get that influx of carcinogens
Conducive to my sick mind

Twisted nihilist
Got a pack of matches
Now I'm dreaming in a pipe

Erupt into flames
Sit back and look at all the pretty lights
The way they dance in the wind
Such an alluring sight
It's really just poetry in motion
As I watch through kaleidoscopic eyes

I'll smoke to that.

She's the kind of girl.
Yes.
She's the kind of girl who could make your heart stop beating like a
bullet.
But could bring you back faster that your emergency room defibrillator.
She's the kind of girl who conducts the orchestra of hurricanes in your heart with just a glance from across a flooded room.
She's the kind of girl who makes use of your telescope eyes
to show you what your love will be
but can pull a shutter down too,
but only to save you.

The kind of girl who lights fires to keep you warm and not
to burn you down.
The kind of girl who holds you close without a dagger up her sleeve.
The kind of girl who holds you close whilst being an ocean away.
The kind of girl who would rip away your flesh and blood
to prove that you're more than what you're made of.
The kind of girl a failed skipping stone would fall into.
The kind of girl who holds you strong whilst being beaten down onto her own knees.
The kind of girl who lets her heart speak instead of her mouth.
The kind of girl whose eyes have experienced a more austere flood than you ever will.
The kind of girl who would take Cupid's mismatched arrow for you.
The kind of girl who would hold you still whilst an earthquake tears you from what you thought you knew and felt.
The kind of girl who breaks the mirrors which have held you captive for years.
The kind of girl who bites her fingernails, so nobody can remain underneath.
The kind of girl who believes that the heart is made for more than to pump blood.
The kind of girl who knows your lungs could never survive the flood.
The kind of girl who brings even the world to a halt.
The kind of girl who shouts from the sun to the moon,
and from the moon to the sun,
not because she understands,
but because she yearns for their love.
The kind of girl who possess wildfire hands.
The kind of girl you'd let burn you down.
The kind of girl.