She laughed,
'I'm not the kind of woman you marry and make love to with flowers on the bed, I'm the kind of woman you cheat on your wife with and **** the life out of with my wrists tied to the bed.'

Boys.
An emotional distraction.
Full of **** and unholy intentions.
He will force the idea into your mind that he is not like the rest, but has three other mistresses he's telling the same thing to.
He will take you on moonlight dates and pretend to adore you, but will leave you stretched out on the bathroom floor wishing you hadn't let him ruin your mascara.
He will make undescribable love to you, but will desire and crave for the body of another.
He will sweetly tell you he has fallen in love with your soul, but will cut open the depths of your heart while you're still breathing.

kissing is harmless,
it's when he's gripping your thighs and you've got your hand down his pants that it becomes dangerous.

People may say that I'm bad,
maybe it's because I yearn to be your habit,

                                             Because,
                                             ****, how I crave that I could be a cigarette,
                                             Packed full of nicotine,

                                             With each inhale with me against your lips,
                                             Your intoxicating lips
                                             You would slowly grow addicted,


If I'm bad,
than then let it be so,
but if I have to be bad,
let me be your bad habit, baby girl.

I'm not saying that I want to die.
Not right now, anyway.
But lately, I just want to sleep.
To sleep and never wake.
I'm so tired.
Tired of everything.