He's viciously attractive So I religiously ignore his backwards way of seeing things And fall into his arms day after night As if the floor itself inclined to the left and I could do nothing but slip closer and closer to his place Where he'd always be waiting for me With a warm arm open and a cigar between his lips
Deep inside, and petrified, Within my soul is cyanide, Sitting, waiting patiently For chances to escape from me. For this reason it seems decent, Fit to logic, moral reason, That I keep my soul contained And every single part arranged Behind a face I've froze in place. Dull of sense, of thought, of taste. Trapped inside is where resides My awful soul of cyanide.
I* don't want you to create memories, I want you to enjoy the moment, when I am with you. I want to be your performance drug, which makes you feel relaxed and slows your heart rate. I want you to absorb me directly into your bloodsteam. I want to be the catalyst of your reactions.
"who said people can't be poisonous? because the thought of you is taking over my body i'm ill, dizzy, unable to think straight and you're just the catalyst to the fire setting off inside of me slowly deteriorating like a wave crashing against rocks but my stance isn't so strong now that you're gone slowly, i slip into the deep sea drowning in your memory and full of everything we used to be
who said people can't be poisonous? because i sure feel infected nothing but you on my mind nauseous over the broken promises you once said you'd never turn on but now all you're turning on is the anxiety and depression inside of me this black spot within, i once repressed is now back and spreading like fire lit to forest green because you are poisonous yet you are also my remedy"
yeah my bf broke up with me and it's really ******