If it were up to me,
you'd have a girl,
a lover,
a staunch and
silky silhouette
between your ***** sheets--

she's the perfect venue for your
****** thoughts and
ill intentions.

She'd be proud,
and savage,
and loud when she's drunk,

a little bit broken,
but not too much--
just enough to understand you.

She'd be your muse
and your music,

sleeping on the
hardwood floor,
in the little puddle of light
that seeps
through the curtains of
your subconscious--

but she's not afraid of the dark that you live in.