"Why do you look so ******* happy?"

Because that's the way they like me,

But to be fair, I do too.

I love feeling pretty in pink

With pastels and fragile florals,

But I am endless and vast

And equally crave the taste of metal

With the bite of blood.

I want my white roses pristine and velvet

Hugged by black leather,

Stained in crimson,

Studded and cold.

Because I am all of these things-

Careless and gentle,

Cold and yielding,

Pristine and dripping venom.

I am balanced and infinite

And thrive swinging on these scales.