i always thought i had it all figured out and there wasn't anything to think about all i wanted was my skin to be branded and liked it a little rough-handed but craved the aftercare where you'd caress the marks that you painted, my pale pure skin with your tongue you tainted, and then you'd hold me in your arms help my heart beat calm so that i could sleep in silence with my mind at peace keeping away all the ugly violence so our bliss-bubble won't be breached yet today i have learnt that i can't have both if you'll be tender you won't be able to control this wild blood that makes me do stuff that is even more harmful than "poison puff"
either you will be sweet and sound or you'll be an anti-hero with hounds either your love will make me feel blessed or with me you'll be obstinately obsessed either you will want to be gentle with me or you would help me see that i am not sick for harbouring these desires even though burnt, it's ohkay to long for fire
and this is what i don't get because if i let you in with no out all i will do is panic making our budding romance tragic because i am a living breathing paradox built of a spectacular range of blocks wanting to be tamed yet afraid if i set this passion free i will drown in lustful seas but if i chain it in i will be faking so what should i do i don't know be like water that goes with the flow or be the storm i was born to be scarring yet surreal in all its serenity?