a senseless **** is still a **** to give and to give of myself, so kindly, is the nicest thing I could ever do for anyone and sometimes I swear I feel the pulse of every evil thing a woman could possibly feel pulsing through the bulbs of my thighs and quickening the thrills of my braced heart as my mind darkens against the sun of you. the night your lips uttered my name, I walked back down every path I ever crossed to get to you and picked up every cigarette **** I ever tossed in hopes that you'd one day look at my will to pick up our past, no matter how ill we were, and still see the beauty in its uselessness. you'll always understand me as crazy baby just like you, and maybe that's why I'll always love you. it'll always be understood that my cigarettes will taste of Bourbon like my lips, liquid to your breath, like Vaseline on your fingertips. anyone with a certain blackness in their eyes holds my intrigue much like how anyone with a certain lightness to their feet trips up my heart, hopefully because they'll always leave me, most likely because they know I won't chase, definitely because they know I'll always want to.