Pink sugared candies, crimson cherries, sweet angels.
They are magical creatures with eyes that can pierce through concrete.
Baby faces, ***** lips, caramel apples with a toxic core.
They are roses that smell just as sweet even after they have been cut,
they have thorns like razor blades.
They are chest pains, beautiful lullabies.
They are lovely nightmares.

Look at you with your smile
that illuminates life.
Thank you for this rampant
addiction.
Dancing in my mind's eye
singing that sweet old song,
and stopping my sad old
loneliness.
I look to you and see
the stars, or the ones that
bring me joy, and weave great
romance.

We're meant to be
Like summer and the sea.
We're meant to kiss
Like sun shine on my skin.
Your to hold me
Like the clouds in the sky.
I'm to hold you
Like the stars at night.
We're meant to love
Like no other.
Cause I know we'll
Always fight for each other.

If every scar could write a story,
then inside of me lies a book.
If ever I dare dig deep enough,
to take a proper look.

To put pen to paper,
and bring to life, Past and Pain,
to scribble out
and exchange,
Words for Scars.
Reality and Truth.
To risk my foundations shaking,
my earth, Quaking.
and leaving me roofless
seems Ruthless.

If every scar could write a story,
then inside of me lies a book.
If ever I dare dig deep enough,
to take a proper look.

If every scar could write a story,
then inside of me lies a book.
If ever I dare dig deep enough,
to take a proper look.

To put pen to paper,
and bring to life, Past and Pain,
to scribble out
and exchange,
Words for Scars.
Reality and Truth.
To risk my foundations shaking,
my earth, Quaking.
and leaving me roofless
seems Ruthless.

If every scar could write a story,
then inside of me lies a book.
If ever I dare dig deep enough,
to take a proper look.

she loved being naked in front of him. not because she had large ******* or a nice ***. she didn't have that. every rose has her thorns. but the way he looked at her when she's bare. her consistently dry lips he made moist, kissed the constellations of pimples on her back, he made the hair on the back of her neck stand up every time she would feel his breath in the middle of her legs. he loved all her imperfections. he traced her every fault line with his tongue and she blossomed for him. she didn't need to ask if he would still love her when she was no longer young and beautiful for she knew that he would love every wrinkle she would have on her face. every white hair, every sagged piece of skin she would have. he was the kind of man that could kiss all her imperfections away.