He watched me slay in my black-cropped top,
I wasn’t wearing any underwear,
I bended over, getting my glass of beer on the coffee table.
Man, I wish I could re-live that night.

There was no room for me in the couch.
He offered his seat but I sat on his lap,
And buried my face in his neck.
He asked me what’s wrong, his breath smelled like cigarettes.

He walked me to my unit
He grabbed my hand on 23rd street,
Looked me in the eye and told me how
My existence in his life is worth more than anyone.

your body is a temple
you are the master, my dear
intruders are forbidden
so why am I here?

I will make you smile
I will gain your trust
and when you hand over your key to me
I will fulfil my lust  

your body is a temple
it is my hotel tonight
you take pride in your rooms
I take pride in my sight

I will open your doors
you will give me good service
I will adore
your skin is my furnace

your body is a temple
or so, I agree
so that I can stay for free
and cause you misery

"You know what makes every story pretty?" he asked.

"What?"

"Unpredictability. One day, I don't even know how your hands feel; the next, they are all I ever want to hold."

"You know what makes unpredictability pretty?"

"What?" he asked.

*"That your every syncopated heartbeat is my love story."

This is the glory light
When sore eyes land your sight
And I can see what's ahead
I'll picture you in my bed
With your clothes on the floor
For I want nothing more
Nothing less then your grace
And that smile on your face
When it wakes in the shine
Of the sweet morning time
& I can see in your eyes
That I'm yours and your mine

Float through the milky way.
Watch a star die.
Ask for a love song from an alien.

Dance around Saturn on it's rings.
Rearrange the stars to spell your name.
Anything for you, My love could fill space.

Made with love,  
            mixed with body chemistry.
            passionate energy.
            chemical reaction.
            satisfaction guaranteed.

I haven't been at this dark of a place in years....

As if all my fears coexist into one big giant fist

It's as if all the nightmares I had when I was younger

combined into a flying feature film staring that guy who dies every **** time

I'm that guy if you were wondering

It's over, I've rejoiced with those hollow words too many to count

It's never over

The war has just begun

It's a struggle to look upward when my shoes seem so appealing

But it's the act of wanting you back

that keeps me in a never ending spasm of heart attacks one after another

I know they say god doesn't make junk

But it seriously seems like he half assed most of my personality

Not because I'm not kind or caring

Actually quiet the opposite

I stick around when ever sticks and stones seem like home compared to finding home in you

I stick around when broken bones don't even begin to reach the discomfort of your glare

I'm ripped into 7 different pieces

I want to live pure and for god but the other three fifths of me wishes for you to just let it be

Let love grow

Maybe

If a flower can't stand up to a summer breeze than the petals will probably fall off

Because flowers need water

You're parched but swimming in a freshwater spring

Like the act of killing my self esteem and dignity in one fowl swing wasn't enough for you

You're gonna point for all to see and shout "HE DID THIS TO ME!!"

But what puzzles me is you're pointing at the sky

So when you die and ask him why

Don't be surprised if he tells you the story of the man on the roof of the flood

So with that I bid you farewell, and good luck.