Somebody ask me whats wrong,
so I can pour out this purple heart,
that has been ever so accustumed to swell up,

Why shouldn't it? I've worn it on my sleeve for too long,

For it is ****** and bruised and has been through too much,
and its worn and torn, and has made me tough,
love has tangled it self up in this mess of my swelling purple heart,
and I couldn't ask for anything more,
for this love is whats keeping me sane at any given moment,
and this love, its so strong I just can't let it go,

This exspression of overflowing emotion has become too much,
people around me don't think I'm so tough,
for they see my purple heart fading, my pulse going out,
its finally all gotten to be too much.

Accustumed to the taste
of kisses laced with cigarettes.
Still wondering if I'm in love yet,
but sure of [two] being my favorite
letter in the alphabet.

A kiss on each lip.
Mind stops thinking
once hands reach her hips.

Previous verse too explicit.
Lost the license to my innocence.
Missing her precious presence in
this instance and as I yearn for her to not
be so distant I'm taught to balance the
act of being patient.

Distinguished marks on necks
show others where our night led
and if this is the way we're starting
I wonder what step for us is next.

Body has become a canvas that she
uses to mark her territory, and she
reveals her desires to see me have
become unhealthy.

Unconsciously feeling guilty for making
her become addicted to each letter
I write her. Personal like a writer and
creating circuits made of love with this
pen I call a wire.

Last verse. Do the words make it better
or worse? Would you care to take the
burden of breaking this curse? Falling in
love for the second time. [two] more than
just a letter and ever since you showed
up its all been a bit better.

I've never seen the sunrise as beautiful as the one I watched rise over you.
You had fallen asleep.
You had told me to wake you up if you did, you really wanted to see it.
But you're just so **** cute when you sleep.
The suns first rays shown through your golden hair, refracting the light into a beautiful spectrum of colors.
I leaned back on our blankets and sat up. Criss cross apple sauce, I took a pack of Luckies from my coat pocket. We had smooshed them at some point in our late night adventures but they were still intact.
With a unlit cigarette in between my lips which had grown so accustumed to kissing yours I looked at you. You were lying on your side, facing me with your back to the sun. The dew on the grass was surrounding our mound of blankets much like heart break had been circling our love; Threatening to precede but not truly troublesome.

Things feel better
But probably not for long
I just want all of you
For all of me
Baby, is that so wrong?
I've become accustumed to you
And whats worse,
I need you too
But baby,
Is that so wrong?