Growth of flowers
in your hair
on a day
of mixed weather
it doesn't care,
brown eyes
are sunny
hair dripping
blondie, shivering
wet with showers,
A gentle delight,
A wrapped
warmth of towel
forecast.

The hunter
hunts the predator
conditioned
to a disease
of war-torn
memories
of being a kid.
The Witcher
travels further
thrill
of capitalism
to exploited
bliss,
Obsession
with
kicking deeper
a child,
born like this.

Sometimes
monsters
give birth
to monsters,
Rages
of a demon
can unleash
confrontingly
upon release.

The hunter,
drives him
underground,
The win
being
youtube fame
for him
and a freeing
of all the cravings
of the perpetrator
born of heresy
for a "prized" victim

I burn
and I burn
and burn.
Everyone loves it
when I burn for them.
They enjoy the warmth I give.
I burn and I burn,
yet no one burns for me.

Why keep burning then?
The answer is simple:
I don’t know how else to love.
I burn and I burn
until I can’t
anymore.

She wants to stick to my lungs
Like cigarette smoke
Fingers like tar gripping as I choke.

But I can’t get enough now
Need another drag, just another ****
Want to feel hands upon my skin
Need the pressure on my throat.

I’m addicted to the violent ways
We love each other
Like warring spiders on the same web,
Wrapping up in silk,
Tie my hands back, spit on my face,
Slap me with your leather
Tease me with the lace,
We can dance forever,
Put each other in our place.

She wants to corrupt my heart,
Like dye in a pool,
Color’s gone black,
Yet I’m still swimming like a fool.

I can’t stop drinking her like oxygen,
Knowing the carbon inside will only freeze me in.
I’m dying to know if it was true,
In the many ways that I loved you
Why were your shoulders like ice when I needed truth?

She wants to stick to my lungs
Like cigarette smoke
Fingers like tar, gripping as I choke.

Looking into mirrors,
Seeing the decay,
She’s a demon on my shoulder
Always gets her way
I’m reflecting on nothing,
Needing to get away,
But I’m feening you like ****
And loving me back is just a hit away.