i took (one) look at you
and a sip (of) my whisky
and both burned with (these) emotions
raw like the cold (days) of january;
but nonetheless (you'll) always give me pleasure
and i'll always (be) receiving it
like a child of (mine).

I killed the first demon
Hoping for the best
But I did not know
It stained my veins.

I killed the second demon
Couldn’t look him in the eyes
As I knew It was gonna come
And haunt me back.

I killed the third demon
Shoot him through the heart.
My head shook senseless,
Its madness made me insane.

I killed the fourth demon
He spit me in the face.
I could feel him
Tearing up my flesh.

I killed the last demon
And so I thought it was the end
But little did I know
His friends wanted revenge.

your eyes are the devil's work
but your hands, good heavens,
and the work of god*

he told me

she buried her face in books
so no one could see
the emptiness in her eyes

she filled her mind
with fictional fantasies
and hoped that one day
they would become real

but because her head
was always stuck in a book
she never got the chance
to have adventures
of her own

i love your laugh
all your little quirks
the cute nicknames you’ve given me
and our late night confessions

but i don’t want to

because one moment
i feel euphoric
and the next
i don’t even know
who you are

you are not my sunrise
or my brisk winter day

this constant turmoil
of zeal and distain
is too much for me to bear

sticks and stones
may break my bones,
but you will always
hurt the most