She didn't want to be found, unless he was mystery man
Doesn't give permission to be touch unless he carries blistering hands
O yes he must be experience, give me the history of a man
who flirts with fire and and and dares to love again
a war zone he must enter , fight each enemy of my mind
Save me from myself and paradise he shall find
Give me a prisoner of curiosity
Who remembers everything  left unsaid
killed by my mystery but keeps coming back again
Intellectual to know I am rough, but brave enough to dig deep
and find I have diamonds between my thighs and a heart of red ruby
Give me the world but a place I can loose myself here on after
He who is brave enough to love the beautifully broken, imperfect, a beautiful disaster
Challenge my powers and not afraid to be the man to stand alone
against the wrath of a woman burned by Hell's fury or cries of rainstorms
Push me to the limit, carry me through my fears
Build me to be better and unconditional love is  here
Seek the secrets I conceal, and watch a cover girl reveal
Mars, a flame is sparked. Be a moth burned by the fire
Give me passion, courage, strength and in return be loved by Venus's Fire

If the flames haven't fought to cover your sky
then the blaze has yet to reach the lie
the lie that's replaced by a lesson

How could I ignored it
How could I say it don't feel it
The feeling of been betrayal
The feelings of been sell short of my worth
Flames in my eyes burn with anger
And you don't see it how
Don't tell me to calm it down
How about looking me in the eyes
See how I feel before you say something

#sellout #bitterheart #flames

I like the way freshly cut grass on a warm Saturday afternoon smells, whilst I sit in the sun and sip on coffee, breathing in the fresh air.
It is almost like being reborn and getting to experience your senses for the first time again.
I like the look of the smoke that is given off by lit incense as it burns down.
The beautiful ripple effect, then flowing off freely into the room, relaxes me.  
When I close my eyes and breathe it in, it reminds me of sitting in front of a fire place, with my gaze set on the flames;
But, more than anything in this world, I like the feel of his presence.
He is nostalgic.
Bringing me thoughts of comfort.
He is both the smell of freshly cut grass on a Saturday afternoon and the sight of rippling smoke emitted by incense.
He is my nostalgia.