You said you would track me down, hunt me
Like a prey. Even strangle him at the altar
So you could keep me as your princess.
I said I would get blood on my hands, defy gravity
just to touch your face. Even use my beauty
to ******, So I could be your trophy.

"She is mad. She is poison and a wreck." My heart
was the scene of a car crash, smiling
Through burning petrol and licking off the sweat
Lipsticks on check, girl dressed up her sophistication
to the nines, eyes vacant, seducing men.

"You are nothing but a cute kitty cat."
You pricked all my thorns and scooped me up
like a baby, arms sure and powerful, eyes on me
Heart pouring out, love drowning me.
Suffocating me in a tub of something called love

You undressed me, high heels, red dress, black lace.
Luscious wanton flesh willing under your palm. You
whispered love as you made love, you marked my soul
the way you marked my body as your territory.
You found the missing piece and made me shiver as you
Made me whole again.  

Be my Harley, I will tell you all the jokes a joker can.
Be my Bonnie, I will take aim and rob your heart like Clyde
"He is a ******, and she is mad"
You took my hand, kissed me hard and bit the vows on my neck.
"For better or worse?"
"Till death do us part"

June 16, 2017
My love is not that simple and shall not be something that is easy to belittle
It is the bright lights that prance gracefully around when going on long walks throughout the city
It is what gives people life and will not leave them with a heart that was shot by a pistol
It is not used to pity
It is the bright blue moon that shines brightly on those that wish to stand out on a dark and rainy night
To bring out the glistening eyes, silky smooth skin, soft hair, and sweet essence that emits from the neck that I am addicted to
Tick tock, time was beginning to feel tight
Patience was not a virtue of mine, but I was waiting for the sincere love to come out of
the blue from you
My love is not that simple and shall not be something that is easy to belittle
It is the kisses that the sun gives when you go outside to sit
It is just like a beautiful song being played by a fiddle
The type of love that roars to many hearts that are in need and those who crave for it
The love that comes out of me, is what makes up your desired fantasy
Even the living dead would be able to soar because of my love
The love that restored your sanity
Just like good times when we would be surrounded by doves
My love is not that simple and shall not be something that is easy to belittle
During those cold nights when the moon yearns for the clean and clear aqua sea
I’m not sure why I want to taste your sweet love, even if it is just a little
I barely know you and you barely know me
My love is the fine red wine that your lips touch whenever you have a horrible day
Leaving my deep red marks onto your mouth, which can make you speechless
Just like when Pygmalion made Galatea, I want you to create a new me and let me show great affection towards you, so please come my way
I promise that if you return my feelings, my love will never make you dreamless
My love is not that simple and shall not be something that is easy to belittle
This portion is dedicated to the one that made mirrors scream as they shattered when my love was being abused
You think I am a simple woman, but I have bones that do not easily become fragile and brittle
I despise you, because my heart was bruised
However, the damages have been made and I have healed because I have learned that my love is not a simplicity that is ignored
I have been made stronger than before
My heart is now wiser and can protect me like the pen and the sword
And for my new future lover, I will meet you at the shore
My love is not simple and shall not be something that is easy to belittle

You asked her to describe herself. I can tell you.

She is daisy petals falling and the slipping on a wet leaf in autumn and putting on pajama pants and cotton candy as it melts and stepping into sunlight in the morning.

You are the cold slap of hitting the water and running your fingers through your hair when you wake up and taking a sip of too-hot tea and the feeling when you ski faster than you should and the brush of your pencil when it's at the softest, darkest angle that makes everything beautiful.

I am waking up warm in the middle of the night and the secret brush of fingers and lighting that strikes too close for comfort and cold cement under bare feet while it rains and the soft surreality of hair underwater.